


Vector Recovery

by Jaeh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gabriel as Castiel's Mentor, Good Parent John Winchester, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slavery, Star Wars AU, Survivor Guilt, Unhealthy Relationships, Winchester Family is complete, but maybe know at least one movie, drug addiction on Castiel's part, knowledge of Star Wars isn't necessary, minor Endverse-like Castiel, set in the Star Wars Universe, this is my fix-it fic for the Winchester family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 13:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 68,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeh/pseuds/Jaeh
Summary: Dean Winchester lost a great deal when the Republic collapsed. He watched his fierce, independent planet be forced to submit to the new regime, and the love of his life disappeared during the Jedi Massacre. Now, he travels the galaxy, hunting rumors of Force sensitives so he can help them hide from the Empire, and to try and find the one he lost.Little does he know that the Force has plans for him - he's on a collision course with his past, present, and future, whether he's ready for it or not.(Explicit only at the very last chapter; Knowledge of Star Wars can be limited to watching at least one movie)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Gabriel/Rowena MacLeod, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 64
Kudos: 60
Collections: DCBB 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the following:  
thevorpalsword for being an amazing alpha/beta/cheerleader. Couldn't have done this without you, friend! <3  
GuardianKnight/NikkiSage, iCeDreams, PieDarling, Hectatess, my RL friend Ghess whose ao3 name I have no idea, all the encouragement and the fic help you guys give me is truly legendary <3  
If I forgot anyone, feel free to message me and tell me I forgot to mention you =)))  
Without y'all it would've been really, really, really difficult to get here. Might not have even made it!
> 
> Also, thank you DCBB mods for being understanding and patient with my questions and concerns.
> 
> And of course, thank you unwashedace for being an understanding artist and for the wonderful art! See her other work here:  
[ unwashedace on AO3 ](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/unwashedace/pseuds/unwashedace)  
[ snotnosebitch on tumblr ](https://snotnosebitch.tumblr.com/)

Dean would like to say that Nar Shaddaa's dark, busy skies made the city look friendly, but that would be a lie. The smog seemed to constantly devour the different levels of the city, obscuring lights that could rival Coruscant's beauty. Well, sort of. Making this moon pretty would be like trying to decorate a gorram toilet. No matter how pretty you try to make it, whatever’s inside would still be full of crap.

Not that Coruscant would be any different now.

He adjusted his hood, making sure that his face was covered. Getting recognised would make things complicated. Granted, Former-Senator Winchester wasn’t anyone too famous among the thousands of representatives in the Senate, but someone might get the stupid idea that he was actually worth something.

But he should be fine. Bounty Hunters are plenty here, scattered on many different levels, and if he looked just like every other mercenary out there, then all the better. 

The bar he needed to go to was up ahead, flashing lights in different wavelengths. Meltdown Café was a bit better than Mos Eisley Cantina, and only because it had more actual dust than sand. The air was thick with smoke from spice, death sticks, cigarettes; if you could smoke it, you could smell it. Something chemical wafted as Dean pushed through the throng hanging around the front door, as the air filters tried to keep the smell as neutral as possible. Place was filled as usual, making it great to meet with contacts. Nothing better than hiding in plain sight, and crowds usually only listened to themselves and not the people around them.

Dean threaded his way to a stool by the bar. Food and drink was essential to making yourself invisible. Lurk and people would notice the suspicious being in the corner. Eat food, be merry, look like you’re enjoying yourself? Makes you look like a part of the establishment. 

He studied the menu flashed over the bar. Nothing seemed good or edible, but it wasn't too surprising. If Dean wanted something better he would be better off eating the rations back in his ship. He settled for a bottle of Alderaan beer, instead.

“A Tatooine Sunburn would be nice.”

Dean didn’t turn. He snorted. “You’re richer than I am, Crowley. Get your own drink.” 

“I’m giving you a freebie, Dean-o. Least you can do is to get me a sodding drink, eh?” The Half-Bothan sat on the empty barstool beside Dean. He wore a sharp, expensive-looking tailored tunic that would get you mugged walking through any level of Nar Shaddaa. Short, sharp horns were half covered by black, long hair on his head, and a long, furry, equine tail twitched behind him. His Defel called Growley following him around, hidden in the shadows.

“You don’t give anything for free,” Dean said.

Crowley barked a laugh. His leg fur rippled in soft, small jerks of amusement. “What can I do for you today,  _ Cain _ ? When I received a comm from one of the most… surprising, bounty hunters, I could not help but get curious.”

Dean paused, his bottle halfway between the table and his lips. “What do you mean?”

“You had everything cut out for you, did you not? Influential family, mommy and daddy utterly with such high status, former senator serving in the Republic, nay, the Imperial Senate it is called, nowadays.” A smile curled on Crowley’s lips. He crossed his legs, revealing more of his furry legs and long tail. One of his hands were raised to the bartender’s attention, who simply nodded. The Half-Bothan seemed like a regular. “And yet here you are, slumming it with the rest of the filth of the galaxy, looking for other filth to turn in. It isn’t everyday I meet a bounty hunter who had such an interesting past and a second persona. So what made you, rebellion, or got booted out of the family unit?”

Dean remained quiet, and took a small, measured sip from his beer.

“Information is my business, you couldn’t fault me for asking.” Crowley continued, after a beat. “And favors, I also trade in favors. What can I do you for?”

Dean inhaled, and tossed a credit chit to the bartender, and raised his bottle again to show that he wants another round. “I’m looking for someone, and I heard you can help me.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve heard stories about you.” Crowley’s canines gleamed in what dim light there was. “A pretty bounty hunter good at hiding in plain sight with a YT-1250 washed in lines blacker than the depths of the universe with the callsign “Impala” would arrive at a backwater planet, and any alleged Jedi hiding there would suddenly disappear. You, Dean-o, have made nightmarish stories spread throughout the galaxy. I could not be more proud.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Is this why you left the family? All done with the Force and all that bantha fodder?”

Before Dean could do or say something that would have had him gutted by the Defel breathing over his shoulder, the bartender sent another bottle of beer to him, and handed Crowley’s cocktail over as well. Dean took that opportunity to take a long pull from his bottle and get his annoyance under control. He didn't have time for this.

“Just give me the goddamn info. Outer rim and backwater planets. Anyone with ‘special’ abilities - you know what I mean. Nothing else.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want.” Crowley took a sip from his drink. “I deal in information, Dean Winchester. Everything has a price, but not everyone asks for credits.”

Dean paused, considering. Usually, Crowley’s good with his palms greased with a high amount of credits and never asked for anything else. There was no way for Dean to figure out what else Crowley wanted - could be anything from the sewer system layout of his homeworld to the codes of the Emperor’s private room in Coruscant. 

Crowley wasn’t the most respectable of sources around.

“I haven’t got all day.” Crowley said, picking up on Dean’s hesitation. 

Dean waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. Crowley might not be the most respectable of sources, but he is one of the best.

Besides, this was worth it. Whatever happens, Dean simply had to remind himself that everything was worth it.

“What do you want, then?”

Crowley pointed to a booth across the bar where they could get better privacy. Dean tossed another credit chit to the bartender plus a bit more to cover his drink. The being gave a nod, one arm smoothing down an antennae.

Crowley’s Defel was very effective in clearing the way to the booth. The mass of shadow was obvious in the neon lights of the bar as it blocked most light, although whenever UV rays hit the Defel its fur lit up in blue, green, and orange, except for the black visor it wore. All the bar patrons moved at the sight of the Defel. They knew danger when they saw it, and if there was a thing that people did not lack in Nar Shaddaa it was a sense of self-preservation.

Dean slid into the booth first and back to the wall, one hand on the hidden hold-out blaster by his thigh, just in case. Crowley went in after him. He placed a small circular device in the middle of the table. “Noise dampener,” said Crowley in explanation. “With a few modifications. It actively searches for any listening devices within a few meters of the booth, and makes sure that nobody around can hear us. Helps with the noise in this awful place too.”

“Get on with it, Crowley.” This was beginning to take too long. Dean would prefer to get a move on as soon as possible. “Something feels off.”

“I always honor my deals, and I never give bad intelligence,” said Crowley. “I’ve never screwed you over, not once.”

“You have bad written all over you, fleabag,” Dean rolled his eyes at the affronted look on Crowley’s face, “though I wasn’t talking about you. Something  _ else _ doesn’t feel right.”

Crowley waved a hand in dismissal. “Back to our business at hand. I need information on the budding Rebel group on Larka.”

Dean fought to keep his face blank, but he was certain it wasn’t working. A rebel group on his homeworld? What in the galaxy was Sam up to now? Dean had told him point-blank not to do anything stupid, to keep quiet and not draw any attention to their family and their planet. “Larka has been loyal to the Chance- to the Emperor, and you know it. We are one of the first few who voted for the Emperor’s emergency powers even when he was a Chancellor!”

And voted, Dean had. It seemed like a great idea back then, with the Clone Wars and his homeworld ravaged by Separatist droid armies, they needed someone to make decisions for the rest of the galaxy without dawdling. And the Chancellor was very good at it, hell, Dean supported most of his every move.

Until, at least, the war began to wind down and Palpatine made no moves to relinquish his powers. There was a petition going around questioning the old chancellor and Dean wanted to sign it, but his Dad had stopped him, saying there was “poodoo all over it - don’t touch that with a pike, Dean, that wrinkled old geezer has a few tricks up his sleeve; this will not end well.” And so, Dean did not. And good thing too, because after the bastard announced the Empire was established, he started hunting down and intimidating everyone who spoke against the new order.

Dean had kept his head down and surreptitiously resigned. Shavit. Pure and utter sith-kriffing-spit. Gorram universe is being shot to hell, and Dean had watched the whole Senate applause to it. He couldn’t do anything or else Larka, not to mention his family, would get the new Emperor’s attention, and attention is… not good. He passed the seat off to Sam, who could play with the best of them in the Senate and managed to befriend the moff assigned to their sector. Dean couldn’t handle the bantha crap and got out.

Crowley’s sharp barks of laughter brought him back to the present. “Oh, Deano, you have no idea what little Sammy has been up to, huh? It’s all hush hush, you know. Top secret. Don’t worry - I have no love for the Empire either, so I’m not going to say anything about how the rest of the Winchesters are waist-deep in this. They’ve been trying to crack down on business - fear and dictatorship is not very good for freedom in espionage.” Crowley’s finger traced the rim of his glass, his gaze thoughtful. “Although, selling secrets to the bidders in both the rebel and the imperial sector certainly makes everything worthwhile. 

“In any case, you know I’m good, and what I have will help you in your little quest. Feed me information about the rebellion brewing in your little home planet, and I’ll give you information on jedi I find roaming the galaxy. What do you think?”

“No deal,” growled Dean, almost out of reflex. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Crowley? Kriff no. Go jump off the space station, because I’m not feeding you shavit, whether or not there’s a gorram rebellion in my own backyard.”

“Dean, Deano. I swear to you. I will make this exchange worth your while.” said Crowley. “I have two more marks for you, and they’re almost confirmed Jedi sightings.”

Dean knocked down the rest of his drink as he considered what Crowley was saying. Crowley was a half-Bothan who thrived on political and economical power, and when he refuses credits, it meant he could get something else with a better deal. The damn furball knew that Dean needed the information, thus had the upper hand. Also, the presence of the Defel bodyguard meant that Crowley probably did have something Dean needed, as defels were creatures of honor, and rarely associate themselves with assholes who could not keep their word. Dean could not risk these two marks to slip through his fingers - one of them might even be whom he was looking for. 

Dean did not like this one bit, but he needed to make a decision, and make it now.

Crowley, with a wide grin, started counting down. “Going once, going twice-”

“Fine.” Dean huffed, and stared Crowley in the eye. “Damn you. I’ll do it,” said Dean. Sithspit. Sam was going to kill him.

“Excellent. Here’s a datacard. Everything you need is on here. I believe, the one in Garqi might be the one you’re interested in, just a little tip.” Crowley slid over a small chip, which Dean pocketed immediately. He pointedly closed the zipper on his jacket, where he’d placed it. 

“This better pan out, or I will come after-.”

“It will, I promise, no need to make threats.” Crowley winked. “I always make good on my deals. Right after you give me what I need over a secure comm line, I’ll give you the passcode.” He stood up, and finished the rest of his drink. “Well, Winchester, it was nice to see you. You know my number - do call, I look forward to it. Oh, and by the way,” Crowley half-turned, and gestured at a Trandoshan in the far corner of the bar who seemed to leer at Dean. “that lizard head seems to be very interested in you.”

Crowley disappeared in the crowd, flanked by his Defel bodyguard. Dean straightened, his eyes on the Trandoshan muscle across the cafe. His hand closed around the small holdout blaster hidden in his jacket pocket, and he slowly took it out of its holster, ready to fire. He slowly got out of the booth, and was flanked by two more Trandoshans, one of whose hands were already resting on his right arm. “I would rethink that if I was you, Mr Winchester.” 

Shavit. Crowley had mostly announced his name into the whole bar, and now everyone knew he was a Winchester. There were no bounties on his head, nothing like that, but the name had money and power behind it. His parents, his whole family, were very protective of their sons that they would give anything to keep them safe. 

A kidnapping would be really, really bad. 

The Trandoshan was growling something into Dean’s ear again, far too fast for him to catch it and interpret what the lizard meant. The way they pushed on Dean meant that Dean was supposed to go with them and start moving.

Hell if he was going to go without a fight.

Dean let the lizard push him forward. He faked stumbling, turning the energy into a roll. The blaster snagged as he tried to pull it out of the hidden holster, so he improvised and shot through his jacket.

The Trandoshan near the bar went down shrieking. Dean crashed into a Togorian, spilling the being’s drink all over his uniform. Oh, frak. 

“Easy, kitty.” Dean said, backing up slowly. The Togorian looked furious, it's tiger-like features more pronounced as the being advanced towards Dean.

He hit something. Dean looked up. It was the first Trandoshan, and he looked downright murderous. There was shifting in the far corner, and a bunch of other mercenaries stood up and eyed Dean. Great, more of the lizard’s friends.

The Togorian pounced. 

Dean ducked. 

The Togorian and its huge claws crashed into the Trandoshan. The lizard stepped back, crashing into another table and overturning the patrons’ orders. 

Dean could taste the split-second tension in the air before hell broke loose.

One of the patrons pulled out their blaster and started shooting at the Trandoshan, whose buddies automatically shot back. Dean remained on the floor, crawling around whilst dodging bolts. Once or twice someone would try to lunge at him, and he would roll or shove his way out best he can, tripping everyone in his path. He shoved his way past another Togorian who appeared a little dazed and stumbled outside into the polluted Nar Shaddaa air. He landed hard on his knees, and from there scrambled to get to his ship.

There was no time to breathe. Some of the mercenaries managed to break out of the crowd and went immediately for Dean. He half-crawled, half-ran to the hangar, ducking occassionally and dodging the stray bullet that came too close. Dean took a sharp turn into an alley. He could hear footsteps louder behind him, and the occasional blaster fire grazed his leather jacket. Dean grit his teeth. Just a bit farther, only a tiny bit - there!

The Impala gleamed in the distance. The disc-like design was unmistakable, the black patterns gleamed on the hull. Dean slipped into the hangar and banged his hand on the console, closing the hangar doors and lowering his boarding ramp. He shot the console so no one else can open it, and the ramp stopped in the middle of lowering. “I didn’t think that through.”

It was within reach, and Dean could pull himself up, he thought. He could dunk himself in a bacta tank to heal later. He slipped across the catwalks and jumped for the ramp. He could hear the hangar doors being jacked open, and a little while before a few mercenaries slipped through, Dean managed to roll himself in and shut it manually from inside the ship.

He was supposed to have a gunner, but his missions were too dangerous, and having an accomplice made everything more complicated. He’d rigged the laser cannons to shoot using the pilot’s console or via computer. He had it set it up to watch the hangar door soon as he arrived, but nothing was happening.

The bad thing about having plenty of modifications on your ship was that since controls are rerouted everywhere, it takes a while to properly start up. 

Dean was definitely going to spend some time in the engineering compartment while he was travelling in hyperspace. It was a shame that his droid, KAZ, needed some maintenance and repair from their last mission. He could have had someone help him with repairs. KAZ wasn’t very happy that he got left behind, either.

He looked over to the hanger and saw someone pull out a missile launcher. Shavit.

His console pinged, signalling Dean that it was ready. He took the controls of the cannons manually, shooting the kark out of the being holding the missile launcher. The Impala slowly raised itself, and Dean turned the ship, making sure the exhaust blew in the mercenaries direction, and punched it off the small moon.

“Force. That was too close.” Dean patted his console. “Thanks for not failing me baby. You deserve more upgrades. We’ll work on it I promise.” Once far in the dark space, Dean set everything on autopilot. He then turned to his comms, and pulled up a secure line. 

“Sam, I need your help.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“At the very least, we can feed him information we want him to know,” said Sam, right after Dean explained what was going on.

In Dean’s opinion, Sam had reacted too nicely when he found out what his brother had done. Sam knew that it wasn't the first time Dean had used Crowley’s services. He knew how desperate Dean was. 

Dean knew that Sam knew all of these things, but still, he felt guilty.

“I don’t trust the bastard, Sam.” Dean said. He clenched his fist on top of the console. “He’s slimier than a Gungan’s ass.”

“Then why’d you ask him for information? Force, Dean, you have Charlie to look into things for you. Ash, Jo, Bobby, shavit man, me!” Sam exhaled. He looked up at Dean. “But, it's done, so  _ moving forward _ : at least now, we know that someone knows we are active. We need to be more careful. Maybe we can mislead them somehow. Feed them useless information. We would be able to throw them off our scent.”

“We, you keep saying  _ we _ ,” Dean hissed. He batted at Sam’s hologram, which flickered. “Are you part of the whole rebellion poodoo? Dammit Sam, Dad told us to lie low!”

Sam gestured behind him, at the general area of their compound. “And mom wants us to fight!”

Dean scowled. He slammed a fist on the console. “Kriffin’ hell Sammy - lying low is the best for all of us. The Empire is screwing over every system who disagrees with its ways and you want us to go against them? You are going to put all of Larka in danger! You’re going to put my rescues in danger!”

“We have to stand up for what is right -”

“Garm Bel-Iblis? Mon Mothma? They’re all in hiding. Most of the 'rebels' are in hiding! They arrested some of the people who signed the petition I pointedly did  _ not _ sign when I was in your seat!” Dean sighed deeply. “Look, I just… I just don’t want that to happen to you or mom.” 

“How about the rest of the galaxy, huh? What about their safety? Their happiness?”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I don’t have time for this shavit.” Dean had angrily turned off the holocom. 

Sam knew what the Emperor was capable of, what going against the dictatorship meant for them - anywhere between stormtroopers holing up on their planet to stormtroopers destroying their world. They could either take away their freedom, and or take away their lives. 

Dean should not allow Sam to endanger Larka. He _should_ _not_ take Crowley up on his offer. Maybe he could just get Charlie to look again.

The thing was, he’d had Charlie look through official channels before, hoping to find whom he was looking for. He'd had her slice through Imperial and underground sources, but nada. 

He’d even gotten Ash to do some more digging, giving Ash a very expensive stash of spice as a token of his appreciation. However, Ash had a hard time finding anything substantial, either, and the two men had merely ended up smoking spice in to make up for their disappointment.

He wasn’t about to bring Bobby into it. Bobby knew what Dean was doing, and did not like it at all.  Bobby didn't like Dean working on his own. He wanted to help, wanted to make it a family affair , but Dean believed his mom and his brother needed Bobby more than he did. He had been the head of security even before Dean was born. Dean didn’t want to risk his family’s position, reputation, or their lives. He could do this, even if he was alone.

Shavit. Dean had exhausted all his good channels, but he really needed the information. He called Sam back. “Sam.”

“Your brother went out for a while.” Mary’s face filled the comms. “He just needed to cool off.”

Dean winced. He didn’t expect to get his mother on Sam’s private line at all. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mom, I-”

Mary held up a hand, and Dean let her speak. “You and your father are alike in so many ways, Dean. You’re both so sensible, so pragmatic. Your father was a good balance to my idealism when I was a younger Senator, and he still is, now.” His mom’s voice grew quieter, but stronger. “I appreciate this, Dean, but we need something more than just ‘riding it out’. The freedom of the galaxy is at stake and as long as Larka is still part of this galaxy, we are not going to sit here and do nothing while we all burn.”

Dean sighed. “Mom, I understand. Really. It’s just… it’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” said Mary. “We have to fight for something, and not merely cower in the guise of safety.” His mom smiled. “You’re already doing your part, honey. Let us do ours.”

The passion in his mom’s voice made Dean smile. This was exactly why Mary was beloved by the people of Larka, and where Sam got his bleeding heart. There was nothing else Dean could do but to let it go. “Mom,” he began, and Mary nodded, taking it as the apology it was meant to be, “I need your help. I’m sure Sam told you what I need?”

“Sam did.” Mary said. Dean winced, ready for the scolding he would receive, but Mary shook her head. “There is nothing else to do but move forward. I know how important he is to you.” Mary gave him an encouraging look. “You should do what you must.”

“Thanks, mom.” Dean slumped back in his chair. “What… what do I tell Crowley?”

Mary turned away, and seemed to be talking to someone in the background. After a minute or so, Dean’s mom disappeared and was replaced with Sam. “I think Crowley’s grasping at straws about what we are doing. It’s impossible that he knows what is going on. I need you to deflect him, Dean.”

“How am I going to do that?” Dean leaned forward. “Crowley will know something is up if I changed the subject, or refuse to answer.”

“Give him what he wants. He wants more information, right?”

“Yes.”

Sam hummed and Dean watched the smile that slowly grew on Sam’s face. “Tell him that you haven’t heard anything about a Rebel group on Larka. Instead, talk to him about the Imperial group that wants to establish an outpost on Larka.”

“An imperial outpost?” Dean jumped up in shock, nearly falling off the seat. “What in the galaxy did the Empire do to get Dad to agree to that?”

“Dad didn’t like it, but the Empire wanted to secure an outpost in one of its agriculturally significant planets. As you know, there is no saying no to the Empire, so Dad did his magic instead.” Sam was full on grinning now. “Dad got them to agree to a few imperial officers on site, but the rest of the personnel are from Larka, and thus loyal to the government.”

“How did he manage to pull that?” 

“He strongly implied that he would stop shipping Larkan fruits to Coruscant otherwise. Something about how the presence of large groups of military migrants would be bad for the local ecosystem.” Sam laughed. “It was amazing, Dean, you should have seen how red the face of the officer was when Dad gave him the boot.

“Tell Crowley that you couldn’t get any information about the rebel group, and tried to contact me for more information, but I couldn't find anything. Instead, an imperial station intercepted your comms, and you found out that they have set up shop in Larka. Tell him that the Empire has been eyeing Larka as one of its bases and as a main source of food for ships heading into the far reaches of the galaxy.”

Dean paused, considering. He pressed his lips together. “Is any of that true?” 

“Mostly. It’s believable enough to get Crowley off your back.” Sam shrugged. “It should be fine.”

Dean nodded at his brother. “Thanks, Sammy. I owe you one.”

  
  


\---

Garqi looked mesmerizing from space. The vegetation from the planet’s surface were mottled violet, lending a purple hue to the atmosphere. It was beautiful, and Dean wished he was visiting because he wished to, not because he had to. 

He descended smoothly, landing in a small spaceport just outside town. Buildings appeared to be sporadically spaced as there was vegetation everywhere, and some of the establishments appeared to have given up and built around trees to make it a part of their business. Purple blossoms rained from the canopy above. Tourists and locals alike walked the streets, and the occasional imperial officer and stormtrooper weaved through the crowd. It looked like something out of a postcard.

Garqi was specifically flagged in Crowley’s datachip. After Dean had given Crowley the information, the half-bothan grinned widely, almost mockingly at Dean. Dean had been worried that Crowley would not accept the info as it was about the imperials instead of rebels, but the being was evidently an opportunist and would accept any intelligence that came his way. “Much obliged,” he’d said, and when the comms shut off Dean received a ping that gave him the passcode to the data chip.

When he had opened it up, the star map only had two locations highlighted: Garqi and Ryloth, which were found on the opposite ends of the galaxy. Dean had chosen Garqi first, because not only was it closer but after reading the data - blue eyes, six feet tall, dark hair, human or humanoid, alias Im’nuel - it also seemed the most promising. The unknown Jedi had been doing some moonlighting, causing general havoc in the imperial garrison, and yet no one has ever caught him. He vandalized their ships and buildings, had anti-Imperial slogans pop-up as ads on the local network, sliced into the network to automatically open the doors to prison cells, and even opened up the garbage compactor and let all of the crap flow out into the streets. 

The local garrison had been angry enough that they had sent out a silent missive to the criminal underground to find the vigilante and turn him in, dead or alive, for a small bounty. From what Crowley had sent him, it seemed that the info had been passed to only a few select brokers. The imperials didn't want too many people aware they were utter morons.

It sounded promising, but Dean needed more info. When he did some of his own research on the holonet, nothing on Im’nuel had shown up. It seemed impossible that someone could stay off the grid for that long, and so Dean had pulled Ash up on his comms.

He was greeted by a holo of a face-down Ash on his console. 

“Ash.” Dean said. The man in question didn’t move. “Ash.” No response. “Hey man, wake up. Ash!” 

The man on the other end barely stirred, but Dean was sure he heard a muffled “Dude, it’s late,” from his comms. 

“It’s 10 in the morning in the city.” 

“It’s midnight somewhere,” responded Ash. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “What can I do you for, my friend?”

“I need some information on someone called Im’nuel here on Garqi. He’s not showing up on the usual lines on the holonet, and I need to confirm a source.” 

Ash rubbed his face, and ran fingers through his unkempt mullet. “Right, let me get on that. I’ll call you.”

“Please do. I’ll make sure Sam sends you a bottle of your usual poison.”

Ash saluted, and the comms turned off. Dean didn’t have to wait for an hour when an alert came in, and Charlie appeared on his projector. 

“Hey, how come you call up Ash and not me?” The redhead greeted with a frown. 

Dean paused, eyes wide. He grinned sheepishly. “I thought you were busy?”

“Your queen demands loyalty. I shall forgive you for this oversight.” Charlie teased. 

Dean was about to respond when Ash popped up in the background. “Sorry man, had to tell her. Thought you might appreciate it if we worked together so we’d be faster - sounded urgent.”

Dean nodded gratefully. “Yeah, Ash, thanks.”

Charlie grinned, and pushed Ash off the projection. “Well, anyway, Ash and I made huge progress on your mystery man.  It seems that the local garrison are a bunch of idiots who don't know how to do their job right. Mystery dude hasn't done most of the crimes he's listed as a suspect in.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Ash piped up off screen. “Yeah man,  we watched some local business' security camera footage - the actual perps are some students in  brown cloaks and jackets running around the garrison and vandalizing buildings. One of them is even caught slicing into a stupidly unguarded terminal. Can’t see your pretty Jedi anywhere.”

“Pretty?”

“Really, that’s what you comment on?” Charlie said, smiling. 

Ash chuckled. “He’s all yours, hotshot, don’t worry. No harm in appreciating a face.” 

“Anyway, we’ve combed through whatever footage they have, and I can’t see any proof of your Jedi even being here.” Charlie frowned. “Sorry Dean. Maybe he is here, though, I mean, they don’t have recordings of the trash compactor incident, maybe that was him.”

Although it may be a stretch. The unsaid words hung in the air, and Dean’s face fell. “Thanks, you two.” His voice was quiet. It seemed like he’d failed to find him again. “I owe you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll just sneak a drink from Ellen’s bar, that’s good enough.” Ash said, half of his head obscured from the projection. 

“Wait, that was you?” Charlie faced him. “Dude, Jo got into so much trouble! Ellen thought she was sneaking drinks behind her back!” She pushed the man good-naturedly off-screen. “Bye Dean, need to take care of this sleemo for a bit. We’ll call you if we find anything else.”

The comms shut off, and Dean stood up. He was already here, and even if the information did not pan out, he might as well go warn the students to stop, or at least hide their traces from the feeds. He descended from his ship, and started walking towards the university.

Dean brushed dirt off his tunic, and shrugged a jacket he found hung on someone’s swoop bike, hoping that it would help him disappear into the crowd. After Charlie and Ash went offline, he received a message from Charlie with the students’ information. He’d slipped into the dorms, and no one even looked at him twice as he made his way into the compound. He entered one of the rooms that was owned by one of the kids, and waited for them to arrive. 

It didn’t take long. The door slid open, and a brunette girl in her late teens entered and shut the door behind her. When the teen looked up, she saw Dean sitting on her bed, and she promptly dropped all the datapads she was carrying. “Shavit.”

“Yeah, you are in deep shavit, kid.” Dean agreed.

“Who are you?” The girl asked, as she slowly walked backwards towards the door. Dean sighed, and raised a small blaster up at her. The girl froze. 

“What’s your name?” Dean asked. He gestured at the girl to sit down on her roommate’s bed across from him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Says the man with a gun.” The girl sat. “And I asked first.”

Dean sighed. “Found some footage of you and your friends playing some very dangerous games with the Empire. You really should stop doing that.”

The girl straightened, and her dark eyes blazed at Dean. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m warning you kid.” Dean sighed. “You have been lucky that the idiots from the local garrison haven’t caught you. Yet.”

“They’re morons.” The girl snorted. “Besides, we’ve got it covered, so thanks but no thanks, mister, you can leave and try to save another imperial base some embarrassment of being fooled by children.”

The door opened. “Krischa-” Another teen, this time a togruta, entered the room. Dean turned, gesturing at the other being to join her friend, on the bed. The girl’s head tails twitched, and she scratched at her red skin nervously. She started to sooth the head tails down her chest, running her hands over them much like a human would play with their hair.

“So your name is Krischa. And you are?”

The togruta wagged her head in response, her blue-and-white striped head tails following her movement. Dean shrugged. “As I was telling your friend Krischa here, you have to stop messing with the Imperial garrison here on Garqi.”

The togruta shrugged. “We’re fine; we have a scapegoat, and he’s fine being our scapegoat.”

Krischa elbowed her friend. “Klare, shut up. We don’t know who he is. He might be another bounty hunter.” She said under her breath. 

Dean straightened at this new information. “Scapegoat?”

Klare elbowed Krischa back. “It’s fine Krischa, Im’ni can handle himself.  W e’ve sent bounty hunters his way before and they all disappeared.”

Dean watched the exchange, bewildered. “Im’ni?”

“There is this eccentric hermit right off the border of the city, near the lake, who used to buy some spice from our dorm manager,” said Klare. “He was the one who opened the trash compactor in the middle of the cycle using the Force. He said he accidentally threw out something important to him in there or whatever. We caught him when we tagged the nearby waste processing plant.”

Krischa, who was staring at her friend in disbelief, sighed. She turned to Dean. “We recognized him, and we told him we’d give him some spice if he doesn’t tell anybody about us. He had agreed, and we’ve been basically supplying him with alcohol and spice every month in exchange for us using him as our cover.”

Klare nodded. The headpiece between her montrals, or horns, shook. “He’s ecstatic as long as he’s getting high - those are his exact words.”

Dean stood up, heart beating fast . “What does he look like?” He put his blaster down.

Klare shrugged. “Almost as tall as you are.”

“Dark hair, human,” said Krischa. “Oh! Blue eyes. Very blue. Like the tips of Klare’s montrals.”

Could it be him? “Thank you,” Dean said, and inclined his head at the girls. He snuck out of the dorms the way he came in, careful not to draw attention to himself. He found a speeder about to take off and pulled the driver out. He tossed credits at the owner that was definitely more than the speeder was worth in apology, and drove off in the direction of the lake.

He hoped this meant his search was over. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was nervous as he slowed the speeder down to a stop a mile away from the coordinates. He started walking in the direction indicated in the info he received. Dean looked behind him, and could see the few buildings at the edge of the city in the distance. In front of him were long stretches of dense, purple trees, thick enough that people would be dissuaded to venture out this far without staying on the road. Dean could see why Im’nuel chose this place to hide.

If Dean was being honest, he didn't hold out much hope. Not even for finding this Im'nuel, and certainly not for finding...well. He'd been disappointed so many times, and every time it got harder to chase the next lead. What would he even say to him, if Dean found him? With how they left things, would he even talk to Dean? Would he even recognize him?

Dean shook his doubts away. Within minutes, a lake was within view, lit orange by the sunset. Dean paused for a second to collect himself, blaster at ready just in case, and he approached the coordinates’ location.

The dwelling wasn’t there. 

There was a clearing, the surrounding trees clustered in close, forming a beautiful, quiet spot of respite. It would be perfect for a hut, or even a house - but there was nothing here, not even a tent.

It was entirely possible that the two students were messing with Dean, and they sent him on a wild bantha chase just so he would leave them alone. Heart hammering, Dean moved forward, but he could not ignore the deep sense of foreboding he felt that screamed at him to stay away.

Dean stepped back. There was something wrong about this place. It was idyllic, peaceful, but there was something - 

He heard the unmistakable squeak of a door. Dean blinked. Something seemed to appear out of the middle tree. Dean blinked again. The vegetation has disappeared. Instead, there was a small hut, and two beings were stepping out, a blue twi’lek and a bothan. 

Dean blinked once more. The hut remained. Someone had somehow redirected his attention and made him think that it wasn’t there.

It could only be a Jedi. There was no other explanation. He wasn’t sure why the twi’lek and bothan were there. Maybe they were asking for help?

He heard a deep voice laughing in the background, and someone with his tunic half on came out and gave the twi’lek a deep kiss, then turned to the bothan to do the same, and watched the two kiss each other before he gave them both a kiss on the forehead and shoo them away. The beings went past Dean, giggling to themselves as they went down the path Dean had come from. Dean paid them no mind, and instead watched the man that came out of the hut.

The man stared at Dean. Dean stared back. 

Dull, blue eyes found his, and Dean knew Im’nuel was definitely who he had been searching for all this time.

Im’nuel was Castiel Nov-Vak, and Dean had finally found him. 

“Cas.” Dean breathed, like he was afraid to spook him. 

The man didn’t seem to respond or react to Dean’s presence at all. He just looked right at him then seemed to completely dismiss him. He sighed, and walked back into the hut. Dean followed, running after him. 

“Castiel, it’s me. It’s Dean,” insisted Dean. Castiel did not react. Dean watched as Castiel ran fingers through his hair, mussing it even further. He took a bottle from the top of the table, and drank a pale, amber liquid straight from its mouth.

“Cas?” Dean asked again, uncertain. He clenched his fist. “Dammit Cas, would you look at me?”

Castiel flinched a little, but did nothing. Instead, he weaved his way near Dean, and ducked behind him to fall on the bed. 

Dean went to Castiel, and put his palm on Castiel’s arm.

Castiel’s eyes widened, and he turned in the bed to face Dean. “Dean.”

“It’s me, Cas.” Dean reached for Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s me. It’s really me.”

“It’s the first time a hallucination ever touched me before,” Castiel responded. He glanced somewhere at the table, and Dean followed his gaze. There was a line of pale brown-red dust on the table. “Must have been a bad batch.”

“Kriffin - hallucination? Cas, I’m real!” Dean bellowed. 

Castiel chuckled, and put his arm on top of his face. “So they all tell me.”

“What happened to you?” asked Dean, words steeped in desperation and confusion. 

“Life.” Castiel responded. He was quiet. Dean blinked. He moved towards his friend, and made sure he was still breathing. Dean checked his pulse. He got a whiff of alcohol, spice, and sex in one go, and Dean turned away. 

Castiel had fallen asleep. 

Dean sighed again. He grabbed a chair and sat. 

He had been looking for Castiel for _ so _ long now, but this might be more than he could handle. Dean was glad Castiel was alive, but his friend, his love wasn’t how he expected him to be. Castiel was broken, and Dean did not know how to fix this.

But still, it was Castiel. He actually _ found _ Castiel, and he was alive. Maybe he should be content with that. 

The room was quiet and the air cool, but the chair was uncomfortable. Dean shifted in his seat, and put his head in his hands. It was going to be a long night.

\---

Castiel woke up to the smell of eggs and tubers frying. He blinked, his pupils adjusting to the dim glowlight beside him. He sat up, and felt some semblance of sobriety as his head swam and pounded.

He exhaled, and closed his eyes. He slowly siphoned the pain away, and scanned the rest of his body, and pulled a dark thread of budding damage from his kidneys, liver, and brain and shunted it into the Force. The aches in his body diminished, and now he was ready to begin another day - night? - of binging his vices.

A man in an undertunic cooked at his stove, and spoke. “All you have in the fridge are eggs, cheese, and tubers. You have more alcohol in your fridge than food.” 

The man's voice was too familiar. He turned away. It was too early to be visited by a ghost from the past. He wasn't high enough for this. 

He wasn't high enough for this. 

He wasn't high. 

Castiel blinked. “Dean?” He asked tentatively. 

Dean turned, plated the omelette that he was making, and pushed it towards Castiel. “Here, maybe food would convince you.” He grabbed a few more eggs and started cracking them in a bowl, presumably to make something for himself. “You’ve been out for a couple or so hours, and I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make a late dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

Castiel looked at the man in front of him. “You're here.” 

Dean nodded. “I'm here.”

Castiel stared unashamedly. Dean's eyes were still greener than Alderaan's forest, but darkened with age and wisdom. His dirty brown-blond hair had grown darker as well, and the freckles that Castiel loved as a teenager weren't as prevalent anymore. He tentatively reached through the Force, and felt Dean's gold and green reach for him, and pure, pure light enveloped Castiel's dim and tired presence.

Castiel jerked his senses back, feeling burnt. He had blocked off his connection to the Force for so long that Dean’s sunlit touch felt red hot against his darkened senses. He stood up, and grabbed the alcohol he was polishing off last night, and stalked out of his hut. He could hear Dean follow him, and Castiel sighed. He did not stop, however, and headed towards the lake in the darkness. He stretched out with his senses to help him navigate, and he could feel Dean stumble after him in the path. He heard muffled swearing. Dean must have tripped on something. 

Castiel continued until he reached the sandy bank of the lake. The moons of Garqi were dim crescents reflected in the still water. He crashed on the beach, letting the water lap against his toes. He took a long swig from the alcohol. “Why are you here, Dean?”

He could feel the waves of disbelief from the man behind him. “What do you mean 'why am I here’? I'm here to help you, take you back to Larka, whatever you need.” 

Castiel shrugged, and laid down. "Like they say on your planet I'm 'peachy-dory'. Don't need you, don't need your help, as I'm sure you can tell."

“It's hunky-dory, and no, you're drinking out of a bottle of Corellian rum, there are traces of spice everywhere in your hut, and I just saw you jabbing your tongue into a twi'lek and bothan's throat a few hours ago!”

“And your point is?”

“This is not you, Cas!”

Castiel stood up in one fluid motion and grabbed Dean's under tunic, yanking him close. “And how do you know who I am, Dean Winchester?” He shoved Dean backwards, who staggered, but maintained his balance. 

Castiel wavered, and sat on the ground again. He took another drink from the bottle . He heard the rustle of clothing being straightened. Dean huffed. 

Dean sat beside him. Castiel rolled his head, and massaged his neck with his free hand. Dean made an inquiring noise, one that Castiel recognized instantly. He used to know all of the sounds Dean Winchester was capable of making, and briefly wondered if Dean had new ones. He mentally stomped on the thought, and instead shoved the liquor in Dean's open hand. Dean put the drink to his lips, and Castiel watched, mesmerized at the bob of the other's adam's apple as he drank. 

They drank in silence, handing the rum to each other in regular intervals. Castiel found himself lying on the sand again, with Dean sitting beside him, groping for some stones to skip on the water's surface. 

“Do you remember, when we were kids, the time when you taught me how to duel?” asked Dean. He had stopped rooting around in the sand, as he'd found a smooth stone to fiddle with. 

Castiel didn’t respond, and Dean seemed to have taken it as a sign that he could continue speaking. “You gave me a cortosis-weave vibroblade so that we could do it properly. You brought out your lightsaber, and I was just mesmerized, that yellow shaft of light, when you held it, you just looked… you looked like an avenging angel Cas, every inch the Jedi Master that you were going to be.”

Castiel knew what he was going to ask next, and Castiel wanted to run away. He curled into himself, and looked away. 

“Cas, what happened to you?”

A bitter laugh escaped Cas’s mouth, and he covered it with another swig of liquor. He examined his booze; it was almost all gone. “I don’t know Dean, what did happen to me?” He finished the rest of the drink, and threw the bottle hard as he can into the water. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

He stood up, and made his way back to the hut. He slowed down this time, glancing behind him to make sure that Dean was making his way back okay.

Castiel opened the door into the welcoming warm light of the glow rod at his bedside. “You should sleep,” said Castiel. “Take the bed. I’ll grab one of my mats and set up the roll somewhere there.” He vaguely waves his hand in another direction. 

Castiel listened to Dean rattle around in the corner of the hut he called his bedroom, waited for him to settle with a squeak of bedposts, until Dean’s breaths started to become regular. Then, he went to one of his supply bins and took out a mat, paused, considering, and grabbed one of the death sticks on top of the bins. 

He lit it up, and inhaled deeply. Castiel knew exactly when the drug hit his system, as the lights in the air started to smell like apple pie, and the sounds lit up with the colors of the rainbow. His connection to the Force went thin as a whisper, making him inhale sharply at the loss of something that gave him immense comfort. But the never-ending screams at the edge of his senses also went silent, and for that he felt relief. The sensation of utter euphoria washed over him, and he slid in contentment to the ground, completely forgetting about the mat.

Castiel needed something to eat. He gaped at the now-cold dinner that Dean had prepared, and didn’t even bother to grab a fork. He savored the texture of the crispened tubers mixed in with the silky egg on his tongue and tasted like a trio of musicians playing in his ear. It smelled like different shades of red, orange, and yellow. He washed everything down with a beer from the fridge, and everything he sensed sharpened somehow, bordering too much. Castiel staggered to the bed. He gently nudged Dean further in, and slid under the covers himself.

Dean turned, and Castiel was face to face with Dean, who stared at Castiel.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel said with a slight giggle. “You smell like gold.”

“Cas?” Dean whispered, groggily. “What is that smell? It smells like-”

“Grey, I know.” Castiel said. “I don’t usually smoke greys, but I needed them because you asked questions.”

“Are you smoking death sticks?” Dean tried to sit up, and Castiel shoved him down. 

Castiel grinned lazily at Dean, and ignored his question. “I did miss you, you know. Every time we talked on the comms, I missed you. Every time you had to go to the Senate and we were able to eat at that diner, I missed you. When I left Larka, I missed you.” Castiel sighed, and snuggled against Dean, even if the other man was as stiff as durasteel. “I still miss you. Your warm gold and cool greens, and your brightness in the Force, but I can’t see or feel them right now, and maybe you’re not real, maybe I’m hallucinating you again, or you’re a vision, or I’m dreaming, because you can’t be here.” He closed his eyes. “I really miss you.”

\---

When Castiel woke up again, Dean was sitting in a chair in front of him. He was handed a mug of caf. “I got rid of your death sticks.” Dean said. “You can’t keep smoking ‘em, Cas. Drink as much as your liver can handle, but never do death sticks. Death is literally in its name!”

Castiel groaned, his head in his hands. It had been really hard to get his hands on those. “I’m fine, Dean. They won’t kill me.”

“They’re literally called death sticks, Cas, take years off your life. It’s in the _ name _, for the galaxy’s sake!”

“I can heal myself through the Force.” Castiel experimentally tried to touch the Force, but the connection was still a little fuzzy. The substance was still in his system. “I was a Jedi before, if you’ve forgotten.”

“I don’t think I’m the one forgetting you were a Jedi,” said Dean quietly.

Castiel waved an arm at him. “It’s too early for this.”

Dean didn’t respond. Castiel looked up at him. Dean was looking everywhere but Castiel. The silence permeated the conversation, and Dean spoke. “Castiel, just say the word, and I’ll leave.”

Castiel didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what he should say. He didn’t want Dean to leave. He hadn’t been around anyone familiar in the last few months, and it was a miracle that Dean had even found him. He’d been alone for months, and there was no one that he could have gone to. Dean's presence soothed a part of his psyche, the part that had lost hope of ever seeing a sunrise after a never-ending night of terrible storms. But being near him was also like straying too close to an open flame, and after so long in the darkness, Castiel felt burned.

He wanted Dean there, but he didn’t want Dean to see him like this. He wanted Dean to go away. He needed Dean to stay. “I was stationed at Generis,” Castiel offered. Dean turned to him, attentive.

“I was there with Commander Bree. He was one that - that clone trooper, remember, the one I…” Castiel licked his lips, and forced himself to continue. “Used to trust. We were there on a diplomatic mission, to try and recruit the planet to side with the Republic, but ran into a group of droids with a Confederacy officer. They might have been on a mission like mine, I don't know, but they opened fire on my regiment and I. I was in the middle of battle, in the midst of destroying one of their AATs.

“Bree called for help on the comlink. I finished my task as fast as I can, thinking that something might have been wrong, but as soon as I was in range, Bree raised his rifle at me.” Castiel raised his hands, mimicked holding a blaster rifle, and shot at Dean. “He didn’t even say anything. He just shot me.”

“How did you survive?” asked Dean, voice low.

Castiel shook his head. “Luck. The Force. An energy shield that malfunctioned and turned itself on. I was hit, point blank, but the shot dissipated on the shield.” Cas pulled up a sleeve, and showed Dean a starburst like burn on his upper arm. “The energy shield then exploded, and I fell. He must have thought I died, because soon after they have dispatched the droids, they moved out.” 

“My arm was useless for a while. I could barely hold my light saber. I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew I had to get off of Generis.” Castiel pulled down his sleeve. “I stumbled to the nearest hangar, stole the first ship I saw. The ship stalled over Garqi, and here I am.”

“Cas…” Dean reached for him, but Castiel shook his head. Dean drew his hand back. “Why didn’t you contact me? Larka? We would have come for you. I would have come for you.”

“I was alone, don’t you understand? I contacted the Temple, Dean. Kenobi had set this beacon that said that the temple was compromised, that everyone was dead, and I didn’t know what else to do, where to go.” Castiel held his head in his hands, and gripped his hair. “Everything I’ve ever known was destroyed. I couldn’t… they’re all gone, Dean, my family is gone.”

Dean moved forward, and enveloped Castiel in his arms. The other man rocked him while Castiel cried sloppily, tears soaking into Dean’s tunic. “They’re all gone. There’s nothing left for me. I couldn’t save them, couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t…”

“Shhh, sh.” Dean whispered, and soothed Castiel by running fingers through his hair. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“Was there?” Castiel asked, pushing Dean away gently. “You don’t know anything, Dean. You have no idea. I just… I need a drink.” Castiel stood up, and got one of the beers from his cooler. He would have grabbed a bottle of rum, but somehow, all the hard alcohol he had was gone, including his spice. Dean must have gotten rid of it. 

Dean remained on the bed, and followed Castiel’s movements with his eyes. Castiel could feel the pity strongly from the other man, and he could not handle anyone’s pity at the moment. He finished the bottle in one drink, his back to Dean. 

“Cas,” said Dean. “Come with me?”

Castiel did not move. “Why?”

“Because,” said Dean, “I don’t want you to be alone anymore.” Dean stood up, and placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Now, you have me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel convinced him to wait until morning. It went against Dean's gut, but Castiel said that he wanted to inform the students from the university that he had to leave and could not cover for them anymore. It was a kind decision, and so Dean went along with it. 

Castiel led the way to the university, keeping away from the main roads, instead going through the forest to make sure that no one would see them. Dean followed him quietly, pausing for some water, and once, in Castiel’s case, a bottle of beer. Dean stared at the back of the jedi’s - ex-jedi’s? - head, taking in his worn out tunic that seemed to be an undertunic from the time Castiel was a Jedi Knight. 

In all honesty, Dean wasn’t expecting to ever find Castiel. He had all but lost hope. 

The other man trekked in front of him, surprisingly steady despite the spice and alcohol that ran through his veins. They had been walking for close to thirty minutes, when Castiel stopped.

Castiel signalled to Dean, and they ducked into a service door of the university dorms. Castiel moved swiftly, evidently very familiar with the place. Dean was sure he'd heard a few students greet him, and on one occasion got dragged into a dorm room for a couple of minutes. Dean waited awkwardly outside as Castiel emerged unapologetically from the dorm room, pulling at his tunic. 

Dean kept his gaze away from Castiel. A part of him ached, but he said nothing. Finding Castiel was more than he could ask for. 

Castiel led him to a familiar dorm room, and entered quietly. The two girls were not there, so Dean sat on one of the beds to wait. 

Castiel paced the room, periodically rummaging through trunks and bins in the room. “What are you doing?” asked Dean. 

Castiel looked up. “Nothing,” he said. He went back to pacing. Dean watched him as he root about in one of the desks. 

“Are you looking for something?”

“No.” Castiel said. He started muttering something under his breath. Dean stood up, and caught Castiel's wrists before he dug into another shelf. “Cas, what-?”

Dean paused, listening to what Castiel was mumbling. “Where did they put it, where could it be, where is it…”

“Are you...are you looking for spice?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“Yes Dean, I’m looking for spice,” Castiel said, glaring at Dean. “The students are my dealers, and I want more of what you got rid of.” He yanked his hands away. “I’m now going back to what I'm doing.”

Before Dean could even figure out how to respond, he heard the door slide open. He turned and saw a student freeze in the doorway, before turning to run. 

“No.” Castiel said, raised his hand, and yanked the kid back into the room using the Force before he could take another step. “Where are the students who stayed here? Krischa and Klare?” He waved another hand which closed the door. 

The boy curled up on the floor, and cowered behind his hands. “Please don't hurt me I swear I know nothing more don't take me to the garrison please-”

“We are not doing any of the sort,” said Dean, putting his hands out placatingly. “We're just looking for Krischa and Klare.”

“You said something about the garrison,” Castiel said. “What about the Imperial garrison?”

“They-they took them.” The student answered. “Stormtroopers came in yesterday and took them, marched them out of the door and carried them when they resisted.” He whispered, “Are you taking me there too?”

“No!” Dean exclaimed immediately. “We're just looking for them.” 

“Yes, tell us everything you know, or we'll take you with us.” Castiel said, leaning forward and grinning. 

Dean turned and scowled at Castiel. Castiel's smile didn't waver, but he did sit back on his haunches. “Do you know anything else?” Dean asked, gently but still with an undercurrent of urgency. “Please tell us.” 

“They were arrested on suspicion of rebellion and treason,” the student responded. “That’s all I know. Please let me go.”

Castiel stepped towards the boy. “You may go,” he said, and the boy got up, but Dean noticed he didn't move. “But if anyone finds out that we are here…” 

The boy gave a quick nod, and as if an invisible force pushed him, scrambled outside. Dean sighed. “You didn't need to do that, you know,” he said. “The whole dorm knows you’re here.”

Castiel shrugged. “He gave up the girls to the garrison for a quick cash, and was here to loot their room.” He looked at Dean, and pointed to his brain. “My faculties haven't been reduced, you know.”

Dean's eyes lit up in understanding. “You were searching his mind. Using the Force.”

“Yes.” Castiel said. He sighed. “We might as well leave now.”

Dean blinked. “What? What do you mean ‘leave’? Now? With them in trouble?”

“You wanted me to leave with you, right? We might as well, now. I've lost my dealer, I doubt that that kid will shut up about the guy using the Force in his dorm.” Castiel shrugged. “Have to leave sometime.”

“We are not leaving those kids in Imperial custody, especially not as prisoners accused of treason. They’ll kill them!” Dean stood straighter, like he was daring Castiel to object. “We are going after them, and we are going to make sure that they will be safe.” Dean did not wait for Castiel to respond, and headed out of the dorm. “We're going to need a plan. Figure out our way in, and get those girls outta there. Need some research before anything else.” Blueprints, escape routes, plans. There was no way that they would be able to get to the local archive, and Dean’s no master slicer and he doubted he can get anything substantial off the holonet.

He needed to call Ash and Charlie, and he could only do that on his ship. He shrugged off his outer tunic and shoved it at Castiel. “Wear this. We're going back to the Impala.”

Castiel perked up. “The Impala's here?” 

Dean nodded, a grin pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Of course she’s here. She has new tech, new rooms, and everything and a newer, edgier paint job, but she’s the same ship, down to the scratched-in initials on the lounge table.”

“Ah,” Castiel said, smiling. “Glad to hear she still flies.”

“I’ve made plenty of modifications,” said Dean. “We can take a look under the hull, so to speak, just like old times.”

Castiel nodded at Dean, with a shadow of a smile that faded quickly. He drew the tunic around him a little tighter. Dean looked on in concern at the sudden change. “You okay?”

“Don't ask stupid questions.” Castiel bit out. He sounded irritable, and for the life of Dean he couldn’t figure out why. Soon after they entered a particularly crowd-heavy area, Castiel seemed to withdraw more. He pressed closer to Dean. “Let's just hurry.”

His friend was obviously in some sort of pain, and Dean did the only thing he could think to do: grab Castiel's hand. Castiel flinched, then relaxed visibly. “How far off?”

“Not far. We’re pressed for time-we're lifting a speeder, come on.” Dean pulled Castiel along, and they weaved through the street until they found a speeder port that looked promising. Dean shoved Castiel at an older model, and Castiel hopped in. 

Dean reached under the hood for a few wires, and attached a small device from his pocket. “We'll bring it back when we're done,” he said. 

Castiel didn't react. He sunk into his seat, and Dean gave a worried glance before he took off. 

“Cas?”

“It's too loud.” The other man murmured. “Just drive.”

When they arrived at the ship, Castiel bounded up even before the ramp even hit the ground. Dean found him sitting on one of the wall benches in the corridor, breathing heavily, eyes closed. “Anything I can do to help?”

Castiel shook his head. He crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and went silent. Dean knew well enough to leave him alone when meditating, and so he went past Castiel into the cockpit. He turned on the holocom and rang up Charlie. It took a while to make sure that the signal was secure, but the connection went through and the redhead answered eventually.

“Hey there handmaiden.” Charlie greeted without even a glance at Dean. “What can I do for you?”

“Need info on the Garqi Imperial Garrison, the one near the university.” Dean could see her datapad out already, and Charlie started to type on it. 

“Blueprints, access points, personnel, what else?”

“Everything relevant, you know what I'd need better than I do.” 

Charlie nodded, and she looked up briefly at Dean. “Who's in trouble? Your jedi?”

Dean sighed. “Would have made it easier really. No, it's the kids who are responsible for the trouble they’ve been havin’. Some bastard student reported them.” 

“Ha, now they start doing their kriffin’ job?”

“Great timing, right?” 

Charlie snortled. “How's the jedi thing going?”

Dean glanced outside the cockpit, into the corridor where Castiel was. “I found him.”

Charlie perked up. “You did? Oh my skies, that is awesome!” Her eyebrows waggled at Dean. “Have y'all kissed and made out now? Maybe have a bit of sexy times?”

Dean barely resisted the urge to laugh, but sobered quickly. “Yeah, he's been doing that.”

Charlie frowned at Dean's expression. “Just… not with you.”

“So far, with everything that moves but me,” said Dean, without annoyance, only exasperation. 

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie, he isn't Cas anymore.” Dean said, voice quiet. “He’s… he seems,” broken, “like he's been through a lot, and I don't know how to get to him.”

“I don't think he's the same man I knew all those years ago.”

Charlie smiled at Dean. “Of course he isn't, Dean.” Dean looked up, surprised. “And he won't ever surface, if that is what you're waiting for. A lot of time has passed. And even excluding the shavit that was the Jedi Purge, things have changed. He grew up, too.”

Dean sighed deeply. “You're right,” he said. “‘I’m more worried about getting him sober.”

Charlie blinked. “What do you mean sober?”

“There was more alcohol and spice in his fridge than food, Charlie.”

“Oh Force.” Charlie exhaled. “Well, you're right, he did change.”

“A lot.” 

Charlie shrugged. “I suppose you just have to-” A ping interrupted their conversation. “Perfect. Blueprints for the old station that they've converted into the garrison. Obviously if you needed better layout you really should've brought KAZ-2Y5 with you.”

“I know, but he needed repairs from the last trip I had, and I'm not risking my baby.” 

“If it’s not the ship it's the droid,” Charlie murmured under her breath. “Anyway, even if I can't get the guard schedule, I at least was able to get the prisoner transfer log and it’s got your kids’ prison number. I'd sent everything you need already.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.” Charlie confirmed. 

Dean tipped his head at his friend. “Thank you Charlie. I owe you one.” 

“Buy me a new set of energy suppression fields so we don't accidentally kill each other for the next LARP sesh and you're in the clear.”

Dean smiled as he said, “I'll see what I can do,” and shut off the holocom. One of his datapads chimed, and he read through the info, planning his next move. 

\---

The Force cradled him safely, and all was quiet. Castiel basked in the peace and calm, letting it soothe his distress. The signatures of the people around him washed away in waves as he meditated. It refreshed him, and settled his thoughts until he felt it again. Something dark loomed at the edges, started shrieking, approached quickly, and threatened to show him a glimpse of the past - 

He opened his eyes, cutting the connection. There it was again, every single time he tried to reach out to the Force and attempt to spread his senses out.

Castiel exhaled, and pushed away the overwhelming panic that overtook him, releasing it into the Force in a slow trickle with each breath. He stood up, and walked around the ship, and let his senses soak in Dean’s haven. He felt a warm, pervasive sense of home that he had not sensed in a long, long time. He walked through the familiar layout of the ship, tracing fingers on the initials scratched into the lounge table, remembering when Dean explained to him before that John Winchester was really pissed off that his two kids had done that somehow to durasteel. He went around, noting that the galley had a newer cooking area, and the port cargo hold seemed rather different. He did not dare go into the engineering bay knowing that it was one of Dean’s most precious sanctuaries, and the feeling of safety and Dean it broadcasted was quite overwhelming, even at a distance. feeling the haven of safety and Dean it broadcasted.

Castiel stood in front of the Dean’s old quarters. A small smile played on his lips, as he remembered their shared past. There had been a lack of privacy where Dean had lived due to the number of guards that always surrounded his family, and he had snuck Castiel up to the family ship so they could get some peace and quiet.

This place held plenty of memories. 

He peeked inside Dean’s old room, and realized that it wasn’t in use anymore. It had been converted into passengers’ quarters, and Castiel could barely feel Dean’s presence in it. He must have moved to the captain’s cabin.

After a quick trip into the refresher unit, he went back to the cockpit, just in time to hear Dean’s conversation with someone.

“He’s… he seems,” Castiel heard the Force echo ‘broken’ from Dean, and he shut his eyes, “...I don't know how to get to him.” Castiel stepped back, and sighed, shaking his head. He would give anything for some spice or alcohol right now, to get away from the quiet despair that Dean was emanating loudly into the Force. He wished he could dull his senses and make everything go quiet and easy.

He stepped back, and made his way back to the seat where Dean left him. There was a slight itch, beneath his need for substances, for Castiel to explain himself. The part of him that craved Dean’s understanding wanted desperately to say something.

He just didn’t know how to start. 

Dean emerged from the cockpit, and turned to Castiel, who sat there as if he had just came out of meditation. Castiel stared back, and without prompting, said, “It was too much.”

Dean was caught off guard, and stared at Castiel, confused, mouth slightly agape. “What… was?”

“The people, Dean.” Castiel admitted. He unfolded his legs and pulled his knees up to his chest. “I could feel them. Every single one of them, it’s like my connection to the Force is broken and I can’t shield properly.”

“Oh.” Dean blinked. “I don’t understand. You taught Sammy how to shield his thoughts from before - “ 

“I know. It started during the massacre,” Castiel explained. “I told you I stalled just beyond Garqi.” Dean nodded. Castiel continued, “The ship didn’t. I did.” Dean looked confused, but did not interrupt. Castiel took a deep breath.

“It was like one second, everything was silent, and then you get this secondhand sensation of watching someone fall, like you’re falling as well, but it’s not falling, they’re all dying, and you feel them scream one by one into the Force in quick, overwhelming succession, feel younglings fall slowly into the dark void that ate everything bright alive…” Castiel tapered off, trying to get his breathing under control. “I still feel echoes of that every day, every time I try to touch the Force, it’s too much, and I need it dulled down.” He clenched and unclenched his hand. “I need something to make it go quiet.”

“And that’s why you…” Dean waved his hand, and Castiel nodded.

“Yes.” Castiel put his head in his hands, ruffled his own hair, and exhaled loudly. “Every time I tried to meditate, to let it go, cold echoes of it burns me, and even though I haven’t stopped trying to touch the Force, I don’t want to completely be in it, because I can still feel it, Dean. I can still feel it happening.

“At that point I chose to simply land on Garqi, and got my hands on something that can take the edge off,” said Castiel. “I didn’t want this.”

Dean stepped forward, and took Castiel’s hands. He didn’t flinch. 

After all this time, Dean’s touch still soothed him. 

“It was the last straw on top of everything that happened. I’m done, Dean,” said Castiel. “I’m done.”

Dean was silent, and instead, squeezed Castiel’s hands gently, and sat beside the Jedi. Castiel tucked himself into Dean’s side. Dean raised an arm, and Castiel slotted himself into Dean’s embrace, and it felt perfect. His presence felt like a warm blanket on a cold day, potentially smothering, but absolutely welcome. Dean had always felt safe, and Castiel could feel bits of him loosen, a little bit. He exhaled, and sobbed silently into Dean's shirt.

He could feel Dean run fingers through his hair relaxingly, and Castiel sunk further into the embrace. “I can't do anything to make you feel better Cas.” Dean whispered as he rocked the both of them. Cas turned and looked up at him, and Dean looked down at his face. “But, I can offer a different kind of distraction.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Dean led the way through the Imperial garrison, already having memorised the layout that Charlie sent. Castiel followed closely behind him, occasionally brushing against Dean. He really was too close, but Dean couldn’t find it in himself to berate Castiel. 

It had been remarkably easy to get some Storm Trooper uniforms from the base, and Dean had been a little disappointed. It took him a day to get everything ready, which was short compared to his other projects. He didn’t think that Garqi would give him too much of a hard time, but didn’t expect it to be easy either. The uniform was a size too big on Castiel, but it shouldn’t be a problem if this works.

Dean found that sometimes, the simplest of plans work best. The uniforms got them into the garrison unnoticed. They would head into the prison complex next, a few minutes before the shift change. Relieve the guards early, and when the actual second shift arrives - tell them they were assigned elsewhere. Spring the students out in the small window that would give them, run back to the Impala, and leave.

Simple, small, worthy of an Imperial Garrison that, upon Dean’s actual visit, very obviously had lax security and an odd trust in the might of the Empire which reflects in some kind of dumbass arrogance that led to the beauty of a mostly unguarded facility.

This explained why the students were so confident. . They probably did not expect to be caught at all.

They turned the corner into the prison wing, and was met with four troopers, instead of just two. 

Dean huffed inwardly. Trust these men to be incompetent with shift changes as well. He bet that two of them arrived early, and they started chatting, thus leaving another area unguarded. 

“Oi, what are you still doing here?” Dean announced with ease. The four snapped to attention. “Shouldn't you be at your post?”

“Sir!” One of the guards squeaked out. “We were just discussing the recently minted new officer!”

“And if he catches your sorry hides you're going to be in plenty of trouble! Should I report you for dereliction of duty?” Dean made sure his words were wrapped in a sneer. “Go on, get to your posts!”

The two guards bolted in a flurry of sorrys and thank you sirs, and the couple remaining officers stood at attention. There was tension in the air from Dean's display, and if helmets could show sweat, theirs would be drenched. 

“You two, the boss says you're to go back to the barracks and see him. Something about schedule changes.” 

“Sir, we didn't receive any news from the comms -”

“There was a scheduled communication disruption, didn't you lot read the memo?” Dean shook his head, and dared to knock on one of the guards’ helmets. “I’m taking over from here soldier. Go!”

The two men sped off, and Dean gestured at Castiel to go to the girls’ cells and talk to them. Dean himself went to the console, and opened the cell doors. 

The moment it was opened, Castiel entered the cells, and after a couple of minutes, Dean watched as the girls came out ahead of him, heads low, hands in binders at their backs. 

Dean nodded at Castiel, and they were about to nonchalantly walk out with the girls tucked between them, when an actual Imperial officer walked into the wing. 

“Stop. What are you doing? Who gave you the authority to move these prisoners?”

Castiel opted to remain silent. Dean spoke up. “Prison transfer sir. They're going to be transported to the  _ Colossus _ for interrogation.”

The Imperial officer paused, and appeared momentarily confused. Castiel stepped forward, and waved a hand. “Sir, we all have jobs to do, why don't you just let us move along.”

The officer glared at Castiel. “Don't we all, soldier. What's your badge number?”

“Ah…”

“CN-803, sir.” Dean supplied.

“I didn't ask for yours, soldier.” The officer said to Dean. He glared at Castiel, his comlink already to his chin. “Number, now, or I'm reporting this.”

Dean tried his best to broadcast the numbers he gave Castiel the other day, screaming it in his thoughts. Suddenly, there was a shrill noise, and when Dean glanced at the officer, he had a hole through the chest, on the floor, and Castiel was clipping a blaster back on his utility belt.

“Dammit,” Dean said under his breath. Castiel shrugged, and the two men worked to pull the dead officer into the open cell door and locked it. 

“So what now?” One of the girls whispered expectantly at Dean.

Dean pointed out into the courtyard. “We continue with the plan, and figure it out along the way.”

They hadn't even taken a few steps when alarms rang. 

“Shavit! Run!” Dean exclaimed. Castiel followed as he waved his hand and used the Force to remove the binders from the girls.

“His comlink must have been on when I shot him!” Castiel responded.

“You didn't have to shoot him I had it under control!” Dean yelled back. “Besides, how could you have forgotten the damn badge number? Five digits Cas, only five!” 

“I tried to use a mind trick on him but his mind was too strong!” Castiel said. “I did my part!”

Dean huffed, and turned down a corridor. “Through here! This should lead us to-”

A dead end. A wall stood in front of them, and from the looks of it, it was new. “This wasn't in the old blueprints.”

“Some rescue this is!” The togruta, Klare, yelled. They could hear an army of footsteps around the corner.

“Cas, quick, do something!” Dean urged his friend, who was staring at the wall. “Cas?” 

Castiel shook out his hand, and a bar of yellow appeared. It hummed expectantly in the air, and Castiel pushed it through the wall, and started to carve through it. “This will take a while.” 

“We don't have 'a while’.” Dean said, pulling his blaster out. He tossed a smaller blaster at the human, Krischa. “Point and shoot, just not at me or Cas. It's set to stun so you don't accidentally kill anyone.” He handed Klare a datapad. “There’s a convenient port there. Slice and find a way out.”

The girls looked at each other, and switched items. The human crouched behind metal crates and started her work, and the Togruta took a protective stance beside her.

When the troopers rounded the corner, they were ready. Everyone started shooting, and Dean ducked behind a bin. He glanced at Klare, who was taking the point-and-shoot advice to heart.. “Nice,” Dean said, and she smiled back. 

The troopers, no matter how many have fallen, didn't seem to lessen. Instead, they seem to have multiplied. Dean fingered a concussion grenade, but before he could toss it, Klare cried out, and held her arm gingerly. “Son of a bitch!”

Krischa popped up from her work. “Shavit! You okay?”

“It's just a graze but it kriffin’ hurts like hell.” Klare said. “How's the slicing going?”

“I got it!” Krischa shouted at Dean, who glanced at Klare. “You alive?”

Klare nodded. “I'm fine. They, however, might want to change that soon.” She gestured at the increased number of troopers. 

Dean heard the telltale hum of Castiel's lightsaber, and he watched the other man shrug off the helmet. He hadn’t even finished half the wall. “Told you it takes a while.” He said, and rushed straight into the swarm of stormtroopers. A Jedi barreling towards them was a sufficient distraction. Dean got both girls’ attention and frantically direct them back towards the adjacent corridor to get away. Klare and Krischa wasted no time and sprinted down the passageway, only to find troopers waiting there as well. “Back!” Dean yelled, and the girls whirled around and ducked back behind the bins.

Dean had followed closely behind the girls, and when he saw that they were as secured as they can be, bolted after Cas. He grabbed his blaster, and shot the first one in his way as he sped back into the adjacent hallway, and tripped another before kicking the next one in the crotch hard enough that the man felt it through the armor. He tossed a grenade in the direction of the other troopers, and shot another one in the head. 

Dean gaped at Castiel, who wove his saber with such grace that it looked like something he would watch at a show. In what seemed like a choreographed set of moves, he watched Castiel stretch an arm out to push a stormtrooper coming at him using the Force and kicked another in the chest. He smoothly turned and swept the legs of another, and using his momentum, slid towards a wall and used it to push himself forward, and he skewered three men into his lightsaber in one go. He shut the saber down and let the men fall, then turned it on again and threw it at a man who was raising an honest-to-Force missile launcher (in close quarters, what the hell) at Castiel. Dean shot at a stormtrooper who was pulling something out of his utility belt. Castiel smiled a little at Dean. 

Dean felt his heart leap into his throat, and he found that he very much wanted to kiss Castiel.

The remaining stormtroopers looked around, and seeing all the fallen comrades from only two men and two teenagers, decided to tuck tail and run. Dean and Castiel looked at each other, then back at the two girls with them. Krischa let them down the corridor they cleared, hopping over some of the bodies on the floor. Dean wanted to feel bad for his callousness, but there simply wasn’t time.

“Go after them, you bastards!” A voice echoed around the corner Dean was. The man's voice was deep and grating, and it oozed down one’s spine and pooled somewhere where dark and scary took place in the recesses of one’s mind. Dean rubbed his arm, feeling dirty somehow. “Those who won’t do their kriffin’ jobs will be tried for desertion and dereliction of duty!”

“Who in the galaxy is that?” Dean yelled at the two girls, who had blanched the moment they heard the commands from afar. They ran a little faster, and Dean followed suit.

“He's the new commander of the garrison, and he’s absolutely terrifying.” Klare explained.

“He threatened to torture us if we didn’t reveal where the Jedi was, and who our rebel contacts are,” added Krischa. “He brought in an interrogator droid, and I almost wet my tunic!”

Dean knew they were barely ahead of the pack that followed them. He signaled to Castiel, and Castiel gestured back at him. “You have to run ahead. Wait at my ship, call sign Impala. Go.”

The two teenagers sped ahead, and Dean and Castiel slowed down to a stop.

Dean showed Castiel a pair of thermal detonators he had in each hand. Castiel tipped his head towards the soldiers, and Dean tossed them in their direction.

The detonators exploded.

Castiel held out his hands, and Dean ducked behind him. It was like watching in slow motion - the ceiling collapsed, bits and pieces of duracrete flew past. He saw the oncoming stormtroopers fly backwards, and a little beyond them, someone in an Admiral uniform looked on. Castiel had contained the explosion and directed it to the area in front of them. It collapsed a whole section of the hallway and buried a few troopers, obscuring Dean’s view of the terrifying man in the background.

There was quiet, and Dean and Castiel wasted no time and made their way out of the compound..

“Well. That explains why they’re suddenly competent,” remarks Castiel offhandedly.

Somehow, this struck Dean as absolutely hilarious, and Dean couldn’t stop laughing as they hurried back into the city to find a ride to the hangar.

It was empty when they arrived. At least, to Dean it was, but Castiel had whistled once, and the two girls appeared from behind a haphazard pile of crates. 

Dean settled down on one of the crates, and faced the students, who held hands as they faced the two men. “Do you know what this means for the both of you?”

“Wow, straight to the point huh, no ‘how are you doing?’ or ‘are you guys okay?’” Klare murmured under her breath, to which Dean raised an eyebrow at. The girl clammed up after.

“Look, we’ve all had one hell of a day. Here,” said Dean, handing a medpac to the togruta. “Patch your friend’s arm up. If you can still walk, talk, and shoot, then you’re fine. I ain’t fussing over you. Besides, you’d hate that.”

Krischa agreed, and Klare elbowed her friend good-naturedly. Klare spoke as she prepared the bacta bandage. “We can’t go back, can we.”

Dean’s eyes went soft. “No.”

“Where are we going to go, then?” asked Krischa, wincing as her friend carefully apply the bandage around her arm.

“I have some options for you,” Dean offered. “You can come with us, or, I have arranged a transport that will get you out of here in an hour or so.”

“Will we be safe?”

“I can’t guarantee that,” answered Dean.

“Then what’s the point?” Krischa muttered angrily.

Dean felt Castiel shift beside him, and the other man pulled a crate towards him using the Force, and sat down. “You knew that whatever game you were playing had consequences. Big consequences. Even as you used me as your patsy you knew that you may potentially die. Or worse, you may get caught.

“You knew that rebellion against the Empire is a serious matter, and isn’t something that you can take back once someone has determined you’re against this government,” said Castiel. “You knew that none of this is safe. You cannot go blaming Dean, or blaming me for your choices. That you were able to use my name, Im’nuel’s name, made you some of the luckiest bastards in this system.

“You know that contacting your family will put them at more risk. You are now wanted fugitives of the Empire. Dean cannot help you unless you tell him what you want to do next. You chose this path, and it’s up to you if you want to continue on it or choose another. But you’re both going to have to grow up and choose something,  _ now _ ,” Castiel finished.

The two girls were silent, and had the sense to look contrite. Krischa looked up. “If we got on that transport, where does it head off to?”

“It’s heading to Alderaan,” Dean said. “But before it does, it will go to Dantooine first, and they’ll give you a chance to get off at the spaceport there.”

Krischa exhaled. “The base of the rebels is there, according to the rumors off the dark holonet.”

Dean dipped his head in agreement. “Or, you can continue to Alderaan, and there someone will meet you, give you new identities, new lives.”

The pair looked at each other, and they seemed to converse with their eyes. “Huh,” Krischa said, looking at Klare. “What do you think, then?”

Klare grinned. “Might as well join the rebellion? Officially, I mean. Even if we’re just serving people caf in the war room.”

Dean stood up. “Well, that settles that. The shuttle is in the next bay. Let me speak to the pilot for you, and we’ll see you off.”

\---

Once the two students safely ensconced on board the shuttle, Castiel had a bit of time to let the intensity of the battle wash away. He looked at Dean as they momentarily lingered outside the Impala, who was smiling widely at him. Dean’s light shone like a bright beacon in the Force, and his greens and golds just looked happier, somehow. He basked in Dean’s presence. For the first time in a long time, something seemed to chase away the darkness he always felt looming whenever he touched other people’s presence in the Force. Castiel doubted it had anything to do with himself, but bet that it had everything to do with his friend.

Castiel had to admit that he was very happy that he found Dean again. Or rather, that Dean found him. It had been some time since he fought with someone and felt like he could trust his partner’s every move. He had been with many other Jedi and they had worked well in missions and in battles, but Dean was special. He trusted Dean to keep himself alive, and he trusted Dean to have his back. And not just that, somehow, Dean made it easier for him to move, to fight with the Force, and not feel the dark echoes loom in the distance.

Dean made him believe that despite everything that Castiel had experienced, maybe everything could be okay. Maybe someday, Castiel could forgive himself for how he failed the Jedi.

For now, however, he had Dean.

Dean had been staring at him expectantly a little too long, and Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Dude, you were so badass!” exclaimed Dean giddily. “The way that you slid back and just kebab'd those guys man! And oh Force, I'm so glad you still remembered that grenade trick - “

Castiel snorted. “That grenade trick was born of your stupidity from when we were teens Dean!”

“Hey, I didn't know that paint grenade was set to explode!” Dean said, grinning. “It was Sam's idea!”

Dean’s happy, excitable presence was contagious, and Castiel found himself bantering back. “So you say, but I doubt it, what with the way you kept laughing when you hid behind me.” 

“I’m lucky you have amazing reflexes,” said Dean. “You parted the paint to the side like nothing I've seen before, and the looks on Sammy and Jo's face when the paint splashed -”

Dean paused abruptly, and Castiel stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“You’re smiling,” said Dean with a shy tone of awe. “I haven’t seen you smile like this since… since we last saw each other on Larka, back when we were kids.”

Castiel looked away. “Oh.” Dean didn’t say anything more, but instead smiled at Castiel again, and turned to his ship.

“Well. I suppose we should go before the Imperial troops recover and send people after us,” said Dean as he turned. “I’ll wait for you in the ship.”

Castiel watched the other man leave. He smiled slightly to himself, and followed after Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

“Are you ready to leave Garqi behind, Cas?” Dean asked when he heard Castiel’s footsteps behind him.

Castiel didn’t respond, and Dean turned around to face him. “How sure were you that I was going to follow?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. “If you didn’t come up in a few minutes I’d’ve gone down and looked for you.” He smiled a little. “I’ve spent all this time looking for you. I’m not about to lose you now.”

Castiel sat down slowly in the co-pilot’s seat, and strapped himself in. “So, what now?”

“Now we leave.” Dean said, but before he even started the ship, he looked at Castiel. Suddenly, he felt hesitant, “Castiel, you  _ do _ want to come with me, right?”

Castiel paused, and answered after a beat. He looked almost amused, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. “Dean, I am on your ship. Did you really think you could get me here if I didn’t want to be?”

Dean turned away, almost shyly. “I guess you’re right.”

“I want to be here, Dean,” repeated Castiel. “I want to be.” He repeated firmly, then looked at Dean expectantly. “So, where to?”

“Larka.” Dean said, his face lighting up at the thought of going home as he got the Impala ready for take-off. “I’m sure the folks and Sam would be eager to see you, not to mention everyone else. I’d also like to show you what I have been up to while I was looking for you,” Dean added gruffly, without glancing at Castiel.

Castiel gave him a small smile, and did not respond. “Tower, this is Impala, are we clear for take off?”

“Negative Impala, all take offs have been delayed due to an incident at the garrison.” Incident, bah. Dean wouldn’t call that a mere incident. “They’re currently visiting all ships, looking for two human males, a younger human female, and a female togruta. Look sharp Impala, I think you’re next on the roster.”

“Thanks Garqi tower,” Dean said, shutting off the comms. He ignored the tower’s warning, and he pulled the ship up to the atmosphere.

“Took them long enough,” Castiel said. “They probably ransacked my place first.” He sighed wistfully, frowning. “They weren’t able to find it before, no matter how many they’ve already asked, due to the -”

“The clever camouflage you did with the Force, yes, I saw. I got lucky that those two girls left your hut when I was there otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen anything,” said Dean. He knew his lips must be thinned, face just trying not to be upset, but failing massively. Castiel owed him nothing, he knew that, but it was difficult to feel otherwise.

Castiel was silent. “Look, Dean, I -” 

Before Castiel could continue, something slammed into the Impala and the ship shuddered. Bright red lights flashed around the cockpit, and Dean swore under his breath.

“They’re trying to hold us with the planetary tractor beam. It’s not strong enough and I can get out of it, but with those fighters they don’t have to hold us for long.” He reached for the shields, and tapped them on, and then made sure that all other systems are running. Dean pulled on the lever and pushed the thrusters on max, and tried to wiggle the ship out of the beam.

Castiel asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Ah, targeting computer in front of you.” Dean gestured. “See if my rig does anything. At the moment I got the deflector shields up, but we need to go on the offense or else we are fried.”

Castiel was silent, and Dean did not hear the telltale whine that usually accompanies the targeting computer. “Dean -”

“It isn’t working? Dammit Baby, why would you do this to me now?” Dean groaned. “Run to the guns and get those damned fighters off our tail.” Dean lovingly tapped his console, and whispered to the ship under his breath. “If you get us out of here Baby I swear I will give you the best hyperdrive updates money can buy. I'll bring in KAZ so he can fix ya up nice.” Dean heard Castiel rustle out of the chair hurriedly and he turned back to his flying. 

He had been in tougher spots than this, so they better make it out alive, or else it would just be embarrassing. 

\---

Castiel took off in the direction of the gunwell and climbed up. The direction of gravity changed when he stepped into the gunnery, the laser cannons faced outward from the ship. Castiel, with the Force, could feel ships flying in from all sides, hammering the  _ Impala _ with as much fire as they could.

Castiel had barely fired a few shots when he felt the ship shudder again, and Baby leapt into the sky. The fighters behind them took off screaming as well, and Castiel steadied his sights, and made sure his aim was true. 

He got a couple of fighters down with his first few shots.

He slammed his stick to the left, following the next few fighters and sending a barrage of laser fire towards the other ships. He heard the whistle of a proton torpedo coming from the Impala. Dean must have been able to get parts of the targeting computer to work.

It wasn’t enough. Castiel could tell that it was going to miss, so he held out his hand and nudged the torpedo using the Force, and made sure that it would hit its target.

It did better than hit its target. The torpedo clipped a fighter’s wing but somehow didn’t explode on impact, but instead sent it into a death spin. Castiel had thought it was a dud, but it exploded when it hit another fighter. Castiel shuddered, deliberately pulling the Force closer to him so that he would not feel any of the deaths that would result from their firefight. He doubted that the Force would scream as he couldn’t feel any force-sensitive people in the fighters before him, but it was better to be safe than traumatized further.

The fight was over. The rest of the ships weren't even able to leave the gravity well of the planet, but Castiel's shooting and Dean's flying were able to shake everyone off. The colors in the display shifted into bright blue lines, and Castiel knew they already punched into hyperspace. Castiel slid down the gunwell ladder and went back into the cockpit.

Dean was cooing at his ship and stroking the console, praising her for her efforts. Castiel watched him, amused, and stood there for quite some time before Dean looked up and jumped a little, startled. 

“We're putting a bell on you next time,” promised Dean, and Castiel grinned. 

“No no, carry on, I didn't mean to intrude. You seem to be having such a good time with the Impala I am half-expecting you to land at the nearest planet after Garqi and take the ship into a private hangar, then -”

Dean's face burned red. “Oh shut up, you know how much the  _ Impala _ means to me.” 

Castiel smiled at him, and said quietly, “Yes, I really do.”

“Seems like you haven't lost your touch.” Dean whistled. “You fried those bogeys fast, I was impressed.”

“Not bad for an addict.” Castiel responded glibly. He grinned at Dean, but Dean didn’t respond. He mostly just frowned at Castiel, and Castiel sighed. “Look, Dean…”

“No, don't worry about it. It's fine.” Dean dodged, and left the cockpit.

Castiel watched him, but did not make a move to follow. He sat in the co-pilot's chair instead, and watched the view outside. Blue lines streaked past the ship as they flew through hyperspace, and Castiel sighed once more. He had been living alone for quite some time that he did not know how to talk to people, much less Dean, any more. “I better look for him,” Castiel said aloud to himself.

He left the cockpit and walked the ship, occasionally feeling for traces of Dean. There was a trail of discomfort winding around the ship, past the captain’s quarters and the lounge, and ended up at the engineering bay.

Castiel should have guessed. 

Castiel went inside, and stopped. There was no one there, even if Dean’s presence was strongest here, which was distinct from the general feeling of safe-haven and ownership that radiated from the bay. “Dean?” Castiel called out softly, and a section of the flooring shifted.

His lightsaber was out before Dean could call out “Yeah?” from under the floor. “Whoa, put that away, it’s just us here.”

Castiel switched the saber off, slid it back into his sleeve, and walked closer. “What are you doing? What is that?”

“Oh, ah, crawlspace, smuggler’s compartment, what have you. The connection for the targeting computer’s down here,” Dean explained. “Up there, ship looks all above board, hyperdrive, regular circuitry, speeder bike, usually what you'd expect. All my special modifications are down here, plus you can pack three people in.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Why would you need to hide three people?”

Dean blinked. “Oh. I never told you.” He raised himself out of the compartment smoothly, sitting on the floor, feet hanging down into the small space. “Have you ever heard of a bounty hunter named Cain?”

Castiel straightened. "He hunts Force sensitives all over the universe in order to turn them in to the Empire.”

“Oh. So you have heard of me?”

Castiel stepped back. "Dean, Cain is an evil man,” he insisted. “He slays Jedi. He gives people who can use the Force  to the Empire - a fate worse than death - Dean, are you telling me that you are Cain?”

Dean jumped up from his position, and put out a placating hand towards Castiel. “It’s not what you think, Cas, I should have explained better.”

“Explain then.” Castiel urged. Dean’s presence was not tainted by any Jedi deaths, but Castiel couldn’t help but feel an undercurrent of panic in his gut. Just the idea of someone important and close to him once again turning to the dark side was too much.

“I rescue Jedi!” Dean blurted. “And Force sensitives. The Empire is hunting for them everywhere. If they are already known on the Imperial database I bring them to Larka, kind of like a halfway place. Charlie gives them new identities and then we hide them all over the galaxy. I turn in personal effects or staged holos to make the Empire think they're dead." Dean jumped back into the crawlspace, and looked up at Castiel. “I wasn’t able to help anyone during the Massacre, Cas. I need to do my part.”

Dean’s words, of course, rang true in the Force. Castiel shouldn’t even have doubted. All tension seeped out of him, and he sagged a little. “There are a few families waiting in Larka right now. We haven’t quite processed them yet. Ash and Charlie had been a little busy. I ah,” Dean paused, and he reddened. He looked away. “We were looking for you.”

“Oh.” Castiel said. He smiled a little. “I’m glad you did.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but the quiet was more comfortable than Castiel expected it to be. Dean beamed at Castiel, who slipped into the crawlspace with Dean. “How can I help?”

Dean didn't turn around, and just waved in the general direction behind him. “There's a circuit there that I removed. Mind reinstalling it?”

Castiel hummed in reply, and he grabbed a spanner and went to work. The silence lasted for a minute, when Dean chuckled from his end. “What?” Castiel asked, without turning. 

“I just remembered the first time we were on this ship.” Dean said, shaking his head. “We got into so much trouble.”

“You got us into so much trouble. I wasn't aware that your father had a standing rule about not being in the Impala without permission!”

“You were a Jedi, Cas, you should've been above such scolding.” Dean said, amusement laced through his words. “I can't believe dad threatened you with grounding in our guest room. It was surreal.”

Castiel smiled to himself. He did remember. It was a different kind of feeling of family from what he was used to, and for a split second then, he wasn't quite sure what was so wrong with attachment that his Jedi studies had often espoused. 

“It was worth it though.” Dean whispered into his ear, and Castiel had to turn to make sure he heard correctly. Dean stood in front of him, hands caging him against the panels. Castiel backed up slightly in surprise, and he hit the machinery behind him. Dean pressed forward, and Castiel's stared at Dean's lips a few inches from his own. “I missed you Cas. I missed this.” 

Dean's hand slipped to the base of Castiel's neck and to his cheek, leaving ghosts of sensation in its wake. Castiel closed his eyes, felt Dean's breath against his skin, and the comms started beeping loudly from above.

Dean jerked back, swearing. Castiel opened his eyes, and blinked as Dean jumped out of the crawlspace. Castiel heard his boots thump angrily against the metal flooring away into the cockpit, and as it faded away, Castiel exhaled slowly, willing his heartbeat to slow. He touched a finger to his cheek, and smiled. He turned around, and continued his work on the circuitry.

\---

“What?” Dean barked as he clicked the comms on. Sam's face appeared. 

Trust his brother to be his damn cockblock. 

“What crawled up your flight suit?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

Dean huffed. “Nothing. What is it?”

“I have news about Ryloth,” replied Sam.

“Where's Charlie and Ash?”

A voice behind Sam went “Hey Dean!”, and Dean smiled. “They're busy. Gave them something important to do, and they quickly jumped on it because it was more interesting than gathering information for you about your Ryloth Jedi.” Someone exclaimed in the back, and Dean laughed. Sam turned quickly, and something crashed in the background before all sound disappeared. Dean watched in amusement as he spoke to someone behind him gesturing madly while laughing, then Sam turned towards Dean again and started opened his mouth. 

“You hit mute, Sam.” 

Sam looked apologetic. He reached forward, tapped something, and the sound came back on. “Sorry. Um, I have been informed that I should say I hijacked their fact-finding mission and have thus volunteered myself to take over for them..”

Dean shook his head, smiling. “So, what have we got?”

Sam's face grew serious. “You need to head to Ryloth after this, ASAP.”

Dean straightened. “What's wrong?”

“The last information we found here is that the Jedi has been recently sold into the slaver's market.” Dean grimaced. He should have figured this might happen, especially since Ryloth was known for the slave trade, more infamous than Tatooine.

“According to the reports we found he has seriously hurt someone in service.” Dean winced. If this jedi had hurt someone while in service to a slave master then they might be in bad shape. His owners or sellers had no doubt tortured them in an effort to break them entirely. “He's just a kid Dean, a padawan.” 

“Sithspit.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

“I'm recalculating the coordinates and we’re going to take the fastest route,” Dean said, tapping buttons on the navicomputer. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Hey, don't you dare shut down the comms!” Sam yelled, catching Dean's attention before he flicked the holocom off. 

“What?” Dean responded distractedly, moving his hand away from the comm switch.

“How come I heard the news from Charlie, and not you, that you've found Castiel?”

“We've been busy.”

“Gross Dean, I don't need to hear about that!”

“No! I didn't mean like that,” said Dean. “We ran into a few problems along the way, but we took care of it and got away in one piece.” 

Sam nodded. “I see. And how's Castiel?”

“Charlie didn't tell you?”

“Nothing but the news that you found him,” Sam replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Dean had barely even thought of a response when Castiel shoved him lightly to the side, making sure that at least half of his face was showing up on the call on Sam's end. “Sam! You have grown well!”

Dean snorted and grinned. “Has he. He's taller than a Wookie. Can't see it on this projector, just as well though, he might not fit.”

Sam pointedly ignored him. “How are you? I know it’s been a while, but,” he paused briefly, bowing his head. “I'm sorry for your loss, Cas.” 

Castiel nodded slightly. “Thank you, Sam. I'm in your brother's good hands, so I hope I survive our trip hunky-keen.” 

Sam visibly fought a smile, while Dean guffawed. “Peachy-keen, it's peachy-keen,” Dean explained. 

Castiel shook his head. “Rimmers and their slang,” Castiel complained with a smile. 

“Just because I'm from the Outer Rim of our galaxy Cas doesn't mean I don't have a heart, Core Worlder.” Dean said, dramatically clutching his chest. 

Sam laughed. “Glad to see some things never change.” He said. “I hope to see you soon then, both of you, but you need to get that padawan first.” 

That sobered Dean up rather quickly, with Castiel merely tipping his head at the information. “Thanks, Sam. We'll message when we have him.” 

“Stay safe, and clear skies. May the Force be with you,” 

“May the Force be with you too.” Dean responded, and clicked turned off the comms. 

“Well Cas,” he said, turning to Castiel. “Hope you're ready for a detour, because we are going to Ryloth.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

According to the navicomputer, they still have a day's worth of travel, and Dean was beside himself. Castiel had flitted out of the cockpit after Sam's call, something about cooking them some dinner in the galley, and left Dean alone to work (stare) on their travel calculations. Of course, since the navicomputer did most of the math anyway, Dean’s thoughts inevitably went to Castiel. 

He was well aware that the tension in the ship could be cut by a lightsaber, but Dean couldn’t tell if it was because of how Cas was when Dean found him, or because of what happened in the engineering bay. Dean slumped back in his seat, and sighed.

Neither of them was ready for what Dean wants. When Castiel fought, the new grace and deadly edge that Castiel had grown into was mesmerizing. It helped Dean feel bold, as if he could pick up where they left off. 

He knew he felt a massive weight off his shoulders when he found Castiel, the relief almost staggering at finding him alive. He was disappointed by the defeat that clouded Castiel’s once-bright blue eyes, and the things he experienced, though painful and appalling, also gave him a new level of empathy, a new clarity that Dean couldn’t help but admire..

Dean saw the boy he fell in love with years upon years ago; that thin, lanky, heroic teenager who came for a mission and learned something forbidden to Jedi. Dean also saw the young man he secretly met after Senate sessions, who he shared rushed and thrilling assignations with. Dean also saw the man who left because he was loyal to duty, who broke both their hearts to do what he believed was right.

But the man with him now was not any of those. Things have changed, no matter how much Dean’s heart told him otherwise.

Dean groaned. He knew that finding Castiel would not be easy, but truth be told, he imagined that it would be a lot less complicated than going through Kessel’s Run. But navigating Castiel, and their shared past was like navigating an asteroid field, especially the man’s current state. 

When Castiel hijacked the conversation between Sam and Dean, hearing the banter was painful. He felt like he was lying to his brother, somehow, lying about how Castiel was really doing. Dean couldn’t abide Castiel’s addiction and wanted it to go away, so to speak, but he knew that wasn’t up to him. He wished that he could talk to someone about this, and the first person that popped into his head was Castiel. But it was the Castiel of his past, and while Dean had caught glimpses of that person, Dean knew Castiel wasn’t  _ him _ anymore.

He didn’t expect to miss Castiel while Castiel was already in his ship, cooking something for them to eat. Dean knew it wasn’t fair to Castiel, and it wasn’t fair to himself, but he couldn’t help it, and he didn’t know what to do. 

The navicomputer pinged, jolting Dean back into reality. He made sure that the ship was following the correct keyed-in route, and stood up to grab one of the bottles of Corellian Whiskey he kept in his bunk. He’d had enough of his touchy-feely thinking; he was worse than a romantic character angsting in a holofilm. He scoffed at himself and stalked towards his room, but before he could even open the door Castiel called out that “Bugs on!” and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s ‘grub’s on’, Cas,” explained Dean as he went into the lounge.

“Are grubs not the same as bugs? Grubs are larvae or things that crawl, are they not?” Castiel brought out a couple of plates overflowing with fried sliced tubers, with fried meat, and a greyish brown sauce. 

“Yes, but it’s different,” said Dean, tucking into the food. “This is amazing Cas!”

“Thank you for the compliment, but really, I just fried up whatever is in the pantry.” Castiel said with a small smile. 

They ate in relative silence, with Dean trying to focus on food and not glance at Castiel who ate slowly, like every morsel was something to savor and be thoughtful about. 

Dean remembered the first banquet they invited the Jedi to in Larka, and how he couldn’t stop watching Castiel savor the local produce and wishing that he was a fruit on the boy’s fork, instead.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean looked up, and reddened. “Huh? Yeah. I’m good, yeah.”

“Your presence says otherwise,” observed Castiel. Dean sighed, remembering how he never liked it when Sam seemed to read his mind when they were together. Dean had learned to roll with it, and Sam had learned not to push whenever Dean was obviously lying. Castiel never had such qualms. “Is it because I had to talk to Sam? I assure you that I didn’t mean to bring you any shame, and I am sorry,” Castiel offers. “It does not bother me if you are ashamed of how I act or of who I am at the moment, but I hope you understand where I am coming from.”

Oh Force, Dean was not ready to talk about that. Castiel was looking at him expectantly, waiting for Dean to respond, and he knew that he needed to explain himself if he did not want to talk about what had happened to the man. “I’m preoccupied, I guess,” said Dean quietly. “Thinking about change, and how confusing it is.”

“Are you ashamed that you have changed?” Castiel asked. His words were steady, without judgment, just an honest inquiry. “Everybody goes through changes due to experiences and time. I don’t resent you for it.”

“No, Cas, it's -”

“Change is inevitable, and you cannot prevent it any more than the sun sets,” Castiel said stoically. “You and I will both change in time, and we have to accept that it is reality.”

Dean huffed. “Look, I don’t need a cliche saying to deal with this Castiel, I want to… I just want to talk about us, and how everything feels different, and I need you to work with me on this buddy. I mean, we used to be able to talk, so we should still be able to do it now.”

Castiel put a forkful of food in his mouth, and nodded. “I do try, Dean. But I do want you to know that I understand that we have both become different the last few years, and that is okay.”

Dean stabbed the meat on his plate. “Cas, see, I didn’t change, you did, with your,” Dean waved a hand at Castiel, “And everything else!”

“You mean my substance abuse?” Castiel raised an eyebrow. He put down his fork primly. “I use them to cope with my trauma. It’s a perfectly natural thing to do in the wake of a painful experience.”

“It ain’t right, Cas! Why can’t you just acknowledge that you are pushing your damn emotions away, your problems, because you think that just  _ having  _ them will ‘turn you to the dark side’ or whatever poodoo you Jedi come up with, rather than dealing with them like a healthy person!” Dean said, standing up now. “Jedi are all the kriffing same!”

Castiel clenched his fist, but remained seated. “Having the Force is a huge responsibility. We need peace and serenity to center ourselves and to prevent the fall to the dark side. Strong emotions will lead to the corruption of the darkness within us.”

Dean slipped around to the side of the table, daring Castiel to face him. “You Jedi hide behind your damn code so you can do your damn duty without giving a damn about the emotions and feelings of yourselves and others. You’re all just scared of the reality that you’re all beings that have feelings and aren’t above everyone else.”

Castiel did not take the bait, and stayed in his seat. Dean could not even see his face, as the other man stared at the unfinished spread of food in front of them. “And you, Dean Winchester, what are you then?” He said under his breath, then raised his voice a little above a whisper. “You are not any different. You are afraid that I’m not the person you once knew, that you lost me, but I’m here, Dean. You’re hiding from the fear that I might never be that person you used to love, the person you looked for.” Castiel’s shoulders tensed. “But you know what, Dean? The pain? The spice? The booze? They didn’t make me into this. This is who I am put under pressure, and if you can’t live with that then-”

Dean stepped forward, went into Castiel’s face, and almost growled. “Then I guess we’re both cowards!”

“I suppose we are, then!”

A beat, a split second where Dean was sure that he would kiss Castiel and shove him up against the wall, but that was what started this whole thing, wasn’t it? The confusion settled within Dean’s bones when he tried to kiss the other man in the Engineering Bay, and - 

Without another word, Dean left Castiel alone in the lounge and retreated to his quarters, where a bottle of whiskey waited to soothe him and his fears.

Dean rooted under his bed, and in every bin, checked all the nooks and compartments of his room, and found no drop of alcohol, not even an empty bottle. 

Dean swore loudly, realizing that he had ran out of supplies and probably forgot to buy more the last time he was at port. 

He let himself fall on the bed, and repeatedly slammed his head into his pillow. It did nothing but make his neck ache, so he stopped after a while, and sighed. 

Dean sat up, and crept back to the Engineering bay, pointedly going around to the other side of the ship instead of passing by the lounge. He slumped on a nearby metal bin. Dean rooted around in a haphazardly placed foot locker, and when he found his flask he almost whooped aloud. 

He finished everything in one pull. 

Want for alcohol now sated, he let his buzz take over. He couldn’t deal with this anymore. He had forgotten how infuriating talking to Castiel was, especially when the man had decided to be a stubborn Jedi know-it-all than a human with feelings, and attempt to sooth Dean with empty platitudes. Every time Dean thought Castiel had learned how to acknowledge his thoughts and feelings, he keeps proving Dean wrong. It was like climbing the back of a slimey hutt and failing miserably to reach its head.

The worst thing about it was that Dean honestly understood it. He might not be a Jedi but Dean also had power and was responsible for a whole planet when he was a senator. He understood that you need to set aside personal feelings, wants, and needs. 

There was a reason why Dean continued to love Cas, even when they decided to part ways as teens. The loyalty that Castiel had shown was very admirable and incredibly endearing. 

That time apart actually did them well. They were able to grow into themselves, into separate, whole individuals that deserved to have someone supplement who they were. They also learned how to talk to each other, even just through holocoms, because there was only so much sex you could do without physical touching. Due to the nature of their work there are moments when a quiet evening of relaxing in each other's presence and talking was better than getting off. It only got better when Dean started to actually go to Coruscant as part of his mother's entourage, and eventually, as a Senator himself.

Everything fell apart during the Clone Wars, but Dean didn’t want to think about that. 

What Dean just wanted to say was, he really missed how it used to be, and it really really sucked that everything felt like it was ten times more difficult now. 

He put his head in his hands, and was surprised that his face was wet from tears of frustration. “Great. I'm not even that drunk,” he announced to the empty room. Dean sighed, and climbed back down to the crawlspace, to his safe haven, where everything made sense and could easily be fixed. 

He leaned against the panels, suddenly feeling exhausted, the alcohol probably not helping. Everything had caught up to him, and he just felt bone tired now. Dean yawned, lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. 

\---

“Sithspit,” Castiel said to the room. He gathered up the plates that they had eaten from, noting that Dean only managed to eat half, and tossed them in the sink. “Sith-kriffin-spit.” 

Castiel had never been a very good diplomat, even as a Jedi. 

Castiel felt the anger, the shame, the confusion Dean had clouding his presence, choking the golden light in haze. He started probing, trying to guess what was going on with each overturned flash of feeling, eager to address and help Dean face and let go of what he felt, at the risk of hearing some difficult truths. He realized too late that he was not helping at all, and by that time, Dean had already lashed out at him. He used to think that the same comfort that the code gave him would help Dean, as the man seemed to just accept what Castiel would say, until something like  _ this _ happens, and the cycle just never ended. He should have known better.

And for all that he liked to celebrate his emotional control, Castiel had still retaliated. He had shamefully lost his temper, and as much as he wanted to blame it on how long he’d been without spice to mellow himself out, that would have been a lie. 

Dean just knew exactly which button to push, and Castiel led him straight to it. Castiel wasn't sure if he even believed any of that part of the Jedi code anymore, and yet he could not help but hide behind what used to provide him solace.

Castiel did not like himself. Dean was right. This brand of change was not something he was proud of. He knew he had to heal himself somehow, but didn’t know how. 

And everyone he could ask for help from was dead. 

Castiel needed to clear his head, and since this ship seemed to be devoid of any substances (and he did look, he wasn't a saint, there was a reason why he volunteered to cook), he needed to get his hands dirty. 

He was already done cleaning the galley, so Castiel turned on the cleaning droid he found in a galley compartment, and headed to the Engineering Bay to continue working on reconnecting the circuits Dean detached. 

From the hall outside, he could feel the haze of confusion masked with anger emanating from the space, forcing Castiel to pause and step back. He breathed slowly, in and out. 

With the intent to apologize, Castiel entered the room. He didn’t see Dean, but he did see an empty flask on the floor. He sighed, peered in the crawlspace, and saw Dean snoozing on the floor. 

He must have gotten drunk and stumbled here to do Force-knows-what. 

Castiel jumped in and pulled Dean up, supporting the other man gingerly with the Force, and climbed out of the compartment with the Dean on his back. He staggered a little under Dean's weight. 

Castiel half-dragged Dean to the captain's quarters. As Castiel was opening the doors with a wave from the Force Dean stirred, and mumbled Castiel's name. 

“Just a little further and we're good, Dean.” Castiel said softly. 

“M'sorry, Cas,” Dean mumbled, head lolling. “Doesn't matter that yer diff'ent, I really just miss you. I'll do better, promise.” 

Castiel smiled, and attempted to drop Dean on the bed. Dean did not let go, however, and both of them crashed on top of the covers. “I missed you too Dean,” Castiel replied. “I should not have engaged you earlier. My… people skills are rusty.”

Dean chuckled, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Your people skills weren’t all that sharp in the first place.”

“I resent that.” Castiel responded flatly, but Dean laughed harder. 

“I missed this. I hope we can do it again,” Dean said, sighing. “I loved you Cas, you know that, right?”

Castiel sighed, and tried to remove himself from under Dean's arm. “I know.”

Dean tried to clutch him closer. “Hey, don't go?”

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, I don't think-”

“Please?”

Castiel sighed, and pushed at Dean to roll over to the side of the bed, instead of being splayed like a starfish. “Okay. Move over then.” When he didn't get any response, he checked Dean, but the other man already seemed to be sound asleep. Castiel shoved him gently, aided by the Force to make room for himself. Now with sufficient space, Castiel relaxed, and eventually fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean woke up in his bed with Castiel beside him, and remembered everything.

He was a little mortified at how he acted, knowing that he wasn’t even that drunk. If he was being honest with himself, maybe he just wanted to hide behind the excuse of drunkenness, because he wanted to feel how Castiel took care of people.

He looked at Castiel's peaceful expression as the other man slept. He watched the curve of Castiel's nose, those funny little grooves between his eyes and along the bridge of his nose, his half-opened soft lips, down to the small line of drool that dripped down his chin. 

It was adorably endearing, Dean thought to himself, and Dean should really stop creepily watching Castiel sleep. He barely resisted the urge to run his fingers through Castiel's hair or lace them through Castiel's fingers or inch closer until his head leaned into Castiel's neck, hands hugging around the other man's chest. 

Dean sighed, and stared into Castiel's deep, blue eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel whispered, almost scared to break the silence.

“Good morning Cas,” Dean responded with a lazy smile.

For a beat, they seemed to forget themselves, relaxing in each other’s presence. Someone’s foot bumped into the other genially.

Neither knew who jumped up first, but Castiel quickly claimed that he would make breakfast and Dean announced that he was going to the bathroom. They both ran to their respective rooms, and Dean locked himself inside the 'fresher and sat on the toilet. 

He exhaled loudly, stood up, and turned on the faucet to splash some water on his face. 

He glanced down, now increasingly aware of the tent in his flight suit, and slowly stripped off his clothes. For a split-second he debated taking care of his above-average sized problem, but thought he did not need additional shame on top of everything that he was already feeling. The man was literally in the other room and it felt wrong to start touching himself to the other without his knowledge, somehow, like it was an intrusion. 

Besides, Castiel was a Jedi. 

The man would probably  _ know _ what Dean did and that might just add to the awkward that was last night. 

_ Nope _ . His erection flagged a bit, and Dean exhaled.

Dean stepped into the jets of the shower, and steeled himself against the icy water. When he felt like his physical needs were more manageable he got the temperature up to something more comfortable. 

He dreaded breakfast, but Dean needed to get his act together and be an adult about this. 

It was just a night of sharing a bed, and nothing else happened. There was nothing wrong with that. And, he got really good sleep too, so that was a plus. Besides, the only people who could make it awkward were him and Castiel, so they could just decide that it was nothing to be concerned about.

Yes. Just pretend that it did not happen, or go along with whatever Castiel decides. Yes. Okay. 

It was probably the longest shower Dean had ever taken. 

\---

Castiel blushed all the way to the lounge, dropped himself on the nearest couch and started nervously laughing. 

Dean watched him sleep, and even if it was truly creepy, Castiel found it somehow endearing. 

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, and remembered the soft way Dean smiled at him, those forest green eyes that seemed to sparkle with the light, and that sweet whisper of good morning that he had not heard in years. 

He wanted to kiss Dean so badly, but before he could work up the courage, both of them had fully woken up.

He rose and silently went to work. Castiel would simply follow Dean's lead. It was hardly the first time they have ever shared a bed, and hopefully it would not be the last, and it did not have to mean anything but comfort. 

He was in the middle of frying up some protein mash that attempted to look like eggs when Dean entered the room with a slight blush on his face. “So, what's for breakfast?”

“More fried meat, protein mash, found some portion bread as well.” Castiel responded without looking up at Dean. “Did you have fun in the shower?” 

There was silence. Castiel looked up at Dean, who had blushed harder and looked confused.

Both started laughing. 

Castiel wheezed. “I didn't mean - I only meant -”

Dean waved a hand in dismissal, half-doubled over. “No, no, I-”

“I know you didn't-” 

Dean had sat down and was laughing into the table at this point, and Castiel had to turn off the stove or else he would have burnt the mash beyond recognition. 

“Force, Cas, never change.” 

Both of them froze momentarily at those words, and Dean offered a small smile. Castiel took those words as it meant, and gave a nod at Dean. 

“And the water pressure in there is  _ amazing _ .” Dean said, grinning.

Castiel chuckled, and nodded. “I would think you would rather have sonics on your ship for convenience.” 

“Plenty of sonic showers in the ship. That's the only water one,” Dean explained. “There's something more satisfying about getting yourself wet than letting vibrations do the work,” Dean's voice was low, slow, and quiet, and he winked at Castiel.

_ Down boy _ , he mentally told himself, and resisted the urge to adjust himself in his pants - it wouldn’t do to give himself away like that. 

“We’ll be approaching Ryloth in a few hours,” stated Dean around a mouthful of food. “Sam had sent me the information packet this morning, and we are looking for a young twi’lek padawan called Samman'dryiel.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. “Samman'dryiel survived?”

Dean looked on with concern. “You knew him?”

Castiel nodded. “He was to be assigned to my master shortly after I became a knight, but… Master left the order soon after,” Castiel trailed off, and there was a moment of silence. He could tell that Dean wanted to ask questions, but had opted to wait and listen first instead. “We weren’t close, but I spoke to him when he was told the news about Master Aeng’l.”

“How did he take it?” Dean asked, a strip of meat hanging from his mouth. 

“Like a Jedi,” Castiel said with a wry grin. “He expressed disappointment, but the child had expressed wisdom beyond his years. He said something about how ‘everything had its due time’, and he was given another master instead. That was our last personal encounter. After that, all I know of him and his master is what I hear through the channels.”

Dean nodded at the news. He toyed with the leftover protein mash on his plate, and asked, “Have you heard anything about Master Aeng’l, then?”   
  


“No,” Castiel said. “I tried to look for him again through what resources I could gather in Garqi, but to no avail.”

“Neither have we,” Dean said. “When we heard that he had left, Dad had offered him a job in the planetary security, but he declined. He told Dad that he would be fine, and asked us to not look for him.” Dean grabbed his hand, his expression pleading. “Cas, when you contacted me, I wasn’t lying. I really did not know.”

Castiel sighed, and placed his other hand on top of Dean’s. “I know, Dean.” 

“Then what happened?” Dean whispered. “Did I do something…?”

“Dean, it wasn’t,” said Castiel. “It… I…” He sighed. “I can’t talk about this right now.” He removed his hand from Dean’s, and pushed away his plate, appetite gone. 

Dean sighed. “We don’t have to.” He stood up, and collected their utensils. “We will be heading off to a slaver’s auction where Samman'dryiel’s scheduled to be sold.”

“Slavers?”   
  
“I don’t know how Samman’dryiel got mixed up with them, the report doesn’t say,” Dean said. “It doesn’t matter how; we’ll get him, Cas.”

Castiel nodded back in response, and stood up. “Dean, I think I need -” 

Dean waved at him. “It’s okay Cas. I’ll take care of this.”

Castiel smiled minutely at Dean in gratitude, and left. He resisted the urge to make an actual run to his quarters, and he locked himself in. He sat on the bed, and sighed.

Castiel rarely thought about his master, and when he did, it usually came with feelings of doubt and confusion.

It had happened a few years after Castiel had passed his trials. The news of the war had been brought to the Temple, and Gabriel had been astonished. He couldn’t believe that everything had escalated into war, when it only began as a trade dispute. He had believed that Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Padme Amidala should have been left in Geonosis and that the republic should have stood down and waited. He had this firm belief that the Jedi should not have engaged in battle and should have not become mere soldiers for the republic. Even in the midst of a potential fracture of the democracy that the universe had known, Gabriel was adamant that war was not the answer, and that something larger was at play here and they needed time to figure it out.

Castiel disagreed. His Master had originally taught him to focus on the present, and it was utterly bewildering to have his master suddenly change his rhetoric. There was something that Gabriel was not saying, but every conversation that they had about it kept on breaking down into an argument. Meanwhile, Gabriel took his point of view to the Jedi Council. 

The council had paid him no heed. The Jedi Council’s explanation of needing to fight in the moment made sense to Castiel at the time, as he knew they had to tackle whatever was happening  _ now _ than chase shadows, but Gabriel had been disheartened by the council’s reaction. 

He renounced his status as a Jedi then and there. Castiel did not even have enough time to ask more questions, to clarify  _ why _ , since Gabriel seemed like he could not wait to get out of there. 

“Master, please, don’t do this,” Castiel had pleaded.

“Take care of yourself Cassie,” Gabriel had said, and walked out of the Jedi Temple, never to return.

Gabriel had left without even giving Castiel any way to contact him. 

At the time, Castiel and Dean were in touch, and Castiel visited Dean whenever Dean’s senatorial duties brought him to Coruscant. Castiel went to Dean’s quarters and demanded that they look for his Master, but Dean had told him he did not know where to start. He did explain that Gabriel turned down any help from Larka, and Castiel was too angry, too confused to care.

“You said that you would help, Dean,” Castiel insisted. “You promised me.”

Dean held his arms. “Cas, I can’t. I don’t know where Gabriel went. You have to let him go,” said Dean. “You are the one who is always telling me about how attachment is forbidden for Jedi. You need to know when to let someone go. There are bigger things at stake, and we need to focus on the war.”

“If attachment is forbidden, then I should not be here.” Castiel had yelled angrily. “If you’re not going to help me, then we’re done, Dean.” He stood up, gathering his belongings. 

“Cas, please don’t do this.” Dean said, reaching for Castiel. He caught his tunic, but Castiel shrugged him off. “Please don’t go. Look, I can’t promise we can find Gabriel, I can’t shirk my duties, but I’d put my best men on it, please Cas.”

“I can’t do this with you right now,” Castiel had said, and left. Dean had tried to contact him many times, but at that point, Castiel was too mad, too prideful to care. Dean’s words about attachment were true, but they had hurt.

Castiel knew he should have been the last person to react that way to the truth that Dean had reminded him of. He was the one who had been telling Dean that they could not be together, and that whatever they had was something that would not last, and that he would choose the Jedi in a heartbeat if needed. Dean never said anything much in response, and would just hold the man in his arms. Dean’s presence would exude sorrow tempered with gratitude of just having Castiel in the moment, and that usually broke any kind of tenuous joy they had. 

Dean had always been very accepting of whatever Castiel was willing to give him. Dean understood duty. That was one of the reasons Castiel loved him very much.

He was, however, livid and unreasonable at that point. He felt choked with grief, and he was doing all he could to not let his feelings affect him. Castiel was determined to finally follow his own advice in full, the one that Dean had repeated to him: he threw himself into his missions and let Dean go, not contacting him for a length of time. When Castiel felt like he had let go his pride and realizing that Dean was right, Castiel was already deep in the war, and was commanding his own troops, and Castiel had barely time to take a breath, much less contact Dean and explain himself.

Dean was a saint, Castiel thought, to have put up with him. It could not have been easy to ride Castiel’s push and pull, especially when they would both enjoy intimacy that Castiel was willing to provide and to indulge in one moment, but then would proclaim that he couldn’t be attached the next moment.

_ Couldn’t be attached _ , Castiel scoffed inwardly. It was a damn lie.

If Castiel was to be honest, the hot-cold that he was giving off was more indicative of the confusion that he had been feeling about the Jedi’s teachings and what the code espouses about love, passion, and attachment, because being with Dean had always felt more like an anchor to the light than a path to darkness. 

Then he lost Gabriel, the only person who Castiel would have been comfortable enough talking to about such matters, before he felt ready.

Then the war happened.

Then the Jedi were killed, Anakin turned, and everything just went to hell. 

Castiel itched for spice, for alcohol, for  _ anything _ that would get his mind to calm down. He could feel the echoes of the darkness in the Force loom just within the periphery of his senses, the screams from the lost Jedi threatening to engulf him if he even tried to touch meditation.

Frustrated and feeling helpless, Castiel walked into the refresher unit, turned on the sonic cleaners, and cleaned his body. 

It wasn’t the same as cleaning his mind and soul of the taint that won’t leave, but it would do for now.


	9. Chapter 9

The plan was so outrageously simple that something was bound to go wrong. 

Dean had not seen Castiel for the remainder of the trip, and Dean would be lying if he said he was disappointed. He thought that Castiel could do with some time to himself, and so could Dean. It seemed like every time they talked, they inevitably would end up digging into the past, and none of it ended up well. At least the ship was big enough that they didn’t end up crossing paths. 

Dean sighed, and continued to painstakingly work on the targeting computer instead, making sure that it was hooked up to the cockpit for ease of access in the future. He ran through the plan in his head again. 

They would go planetside to the Leviathan slave auction, buy Samman'dryiel, leave. Their story, in case anyone asked, would be that Castiel was Cain’s enforcer-slash-co-pilot, and they would like to add a force-sensitive gunner/crew member to the posse. Castiel would be there as Dean’s backup in case something went wrong. 

It was so outrageously simple that something was bound to go wrong. 

Dean had gone and paid what he owed and got Samman'dryiel's papers, signing for ownership and transferring the contract to his own datapad. It only took a couple of hours, then all they have left was to get Samman'dryiel and leave this rock.

When he went back to their rendezvous point, Castiel was not there. Dean didn't think anything of it at first, and instead made his way to the cells where Samman'dryiel was meant to be. 

Dean didn't quite make it there. He walked past rows upon rows of dimly lit rooms set in a squalid, square structure. They reeked of piss, vomit, and other foul-smelling substances mixed in with a very distinct chemical smell, and that was when Dean realized what they were: spice deans. They were offered to the buyers as a part of the ‘amenities’ they could use, and Dean shook his head. Everyone knew it was a ruse to catch people off guard and get them ripe for robbing. Slavers, quite predictably, weren't very honorable. 

There was a thud coming from the one a few rooms in front of Dean, and he glanced inside. 

He found someone keeled over, unconscious. 

Dean sighed, realizing that someone fell for the trap, but upon looking closer, he realized he knew who the man was.

It was Castiel. 

Dean rushed in, concerned, checking the other’s vital signs. He rolled him over, making sure that the other man did not choke on anything, and noted that Castiel wasn’t even able to smoke the whole cache before he passed out, so he’d probably wake up soon. Dean slung Castiel’s arm around him, and gingerly stood with the other man, but the deadweight made him stagger. Dean swore and tried again, but before he could stand up, he heard something rustle behind him, and something large hit the back of his head, and everything went dark. 

He woke up on a cell floor, and he had a killer headache. He blinked his eyes into focus, and took note of the dirt-covered duracrete floor and the opaque door that stood in his way of freedom. The brown, thick stone wall around him yielded no weakness, and there were no apparent vents or windows that will account for the cooler air in the small room. He sat up, and instantly regretted it, as the room spun and he immediately felt nauseous. 

He might have a concussion. There was no time for a concussion.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Castiel said, immediately coming to Dean’s aid. He sat beside him, ready to help.

“No,” Dean replied curtly. He said nothing else, just massaging the egg that appeared at the base of his skull. 

“You're awake.” Just outside the door must be a guard. The door seemed to carry sound better than it looked. 

“Yeah, this headache doesn't make me want to be, though,” Dean commented off-handedly. “And you are?” 

“It's not important right now,” The guard drawled. “Listen carefully. I have something you need.”

“Yeah, and what's that?” 

“A way out.” That caught Dean's attention. He straightened, hand going to his head as the movement made his headache pound, but Dean ignored it.

“Prove it,” challenged Dean. He staggered to the door, much to Castiel's protest, but he paid the other no mind. “Open the door, and prove that you're on our side.”

“Na'w, I wasn't born yesterday, Dean Winchester, and neither were these men.” The other man drawled. Dean winced when he heard his full name. “They started figuring out who you really were the moment you waved your credits under their noses like the agri-king you and your folks are, trying to buy one of them force sensitives to put to work. They decided you’re worth more as a hostage than a customer.”

“Yeah, I figured that was the case,” Dean said with a sigh. “It was going to bite me in the ass someday, sucks that it had to be here on Ryloth.”

“Oh people bought that you were the mighty bounty hunter Cain, chief, at least at first, thinking you wanted a punching bag or a helper in the kid you were buying, or maybe even  _ entertainment _ ,” the guard injected just enough disgust into the last word that made Dean grimace at the innuendo, “but the longer you stayed at camp the longer someone had a good look at you and realized who you were.

“Your friend fainting in the lounge was no help either. They were braver when they realized you were preoccupied with him, and so, here you are.” The guard chuckled lowly. “He’s new, ain’t he? Didn’t know that they lace them spice for wermos who’d compromise themselves in a slaver’s camp? This place ain’t exactly a resort.”

Dean managed to keep a straight face at the guard’s comments, while Castiel winced beside him. “You got a point?”

“I know how to get out, and I would show you.”

“So you just want to guide me out of this slaver’s camp out of the goodness of your heart?” Dean flatly stated.

“More or less.”

Dean scoffed. “What’s in it for you?”

The guard’s voice seemed to soften and grow quieter. “I’m looking to secure the release of some slaves in this here camp, and you’re gonna help me.” 

“Might as well release everyone else while you’re at it, and destroy its existence,” commented Castiel.

“People will be mighty pissed if we do that, glitbiter, and draw attention to our way out.”

“I’m not a spice addict; I have my reasons,” Castiel’s response was flat but insistent.

“That’s what they all say.”

“Enough,” Dean said, pointedly not defending Castiel. He focused instead on the task at hand. “We get the kid too, first. Samman'dryiel.”

“No problem, he should be with the others,” the guard said. He grew quiet, and Dean could tell that something was different. He listened carefully, and there was a distinct sound of something heavy slither and pull on the dirt-covered floor. Must be the boss.

The door slid opened, and Dean was kicked by someone in the face, then was picked up and held in a standing position by a couple of Gamorreans. Their dirty, heavy swine smell assaulted Dean’s nose. His headache pulsed stronger. Dean swore, spat out a glob of spit and blood in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his teeth, and spoke when he was satisfied he hadn’t broken any of them. “I could stand, you know.” 

He glared at the hutt that appeared in front of him, backed by an array of thugs, servants, and even a protocol droid. The oversized mass of flesh was decorated in swirling tattoos, the tan-purple skin not as slimy as hutts usually look, especially with the hutt’s body covered in some sort of tunic that made him look vaguely like a uniformed admiral. His face was devoid of detritus and stains, but the distinct hutt smell still lingered in the air. Dean was actually surprised to see that this hutt looked clean and respectable, for a  _ hutt _ , that is. Dirka Roma, or Dirka the Leviathan, was one of the most ruthless and calculating crime lords this side of the galaxy. Dean had heard plenty of rumors about him, especially his quirk of eating people that get on his bad side.

Dean shuddered internally. If there was one thing that he never wanted to experience, it was to spend his last few moments inside a stinking hutt. Maybe it would be wiser not to run off with his mouth, but although Dean wasn’t an idiot, he wouldn’t exactly call himself wise.

“If you stood, you would not be tall enough to look me in the eye.” The huttese spoke basic directly at Dean, which surprised him. Hutts rarely spoke basic, as they tend to intimidate others through their booming, garbled-sounding tongue. 

“So what, now you’re treating me as an equal?” Dean said, scoffing. “I never thought you hutts would have it in you.”

“Dean Winchester, sometimes to get what you want, you need to be willing to temporarily lower yourself to the ground,” Dirka explained with a slight smirk. “Of course, that does not mean you have to debase yourself, and speaking basic is just as far down as I am willing to go.” The hutt gestured at Dean. “I’m here to make credits and to gain influence,” Dirka replied. “I have no foothold in Larka. I think it would benefit all of us if I could gain access to your planetary resources of all kinds.” The hutt smiled, his feline-like eyes narrowing slightly. “You make for an excellent bargaining tool, and your friend there will help me help you realize such.”

“You're just using me? And here I thought we were making a connection,” Dean said. “Look, wermo, it’s night time in the city. The folks in security probably think you’re not important enough to wake the ruling family just because some overgrown slug wanted an audience. You really think they would make you a priority over their beauty sleep? Fat chance.”

Dirka moved quicker than any hutt should have the licence to, and was immediately in Dean’s face. The stench of his breath wafted into Dean’s nostrils, and he coughed at the dead, rotting, slimey aroma that dug into his nose. “And that is why I’m here. I want you to be the one to call in the emergency, so that I can talk your folks into making sure that I get what I need.”

Dean threw his head back in mocking laughter. “Okay, so your bright idea is to have me call them, because you think the Winchester estate is going to wake up just for a call from their wayward son.” He looked the hutt up and down. “Let me guess, next you’re gonna try and intimidate me into doing it by hurting me, or hurting Cas, or maybe even hurting Samman’dryiel. Look, believe me when I say that they will  _ not _ answer any calls at this time.”

Dirka considered, and gestured at Dean. “Look at you. You were a senator of a very profitable agricultural planet and you turned all of that away just to hunt for jedi. Now, I would understand wanting to leave that position for a higher aspiration, but instead, you lowered yourself to a bounty hunter’s status. It’s disgusting.” Dirka tossed a look at Castiel, who stood on alert at the far side of the room. “But, I suppose if you could collect some Jedi of your own for whatever reason, I’d do that too. I doubt that you do it for the credits, because if you were, this pathetic excuse would already be in the hands of the Empire.

“So, that must mean you care for him,” Dirka pointed out.

“And your point is?”

“There are plenty of ways to devour Jedi, and I don’t need to eat him whole.” A gamorrean approached Castiel, brandishing his axe. “I can start with a leg, or a hand, or maybe even just a foot, to whet my appetite.” A couple more thugs came in and held Castiel down, who had struggled, but the strength of the other beings was simply more than his. The green swine raised his axe.

“Fine!” Dean screamed, and the swine-like creature stopped. “Okay, you win. Give me access to a holocom and I’ll do it.”

Dirka gave a satisfied nod, and gestured to someone outside Dean’s view. Soon after, a twi’lek arrived, and set before Dean a compact, mobile holocom, and the two gamorreans dropped him on the ground without warning. Dean crashed to his knees with a yell. “Don’t damage the goods man, you can’t get any money for a dead son,” he said, pulling at his clothes to fix them. “I bet you a fiver that nobody will answer, because I keep telling you, it’s  _ night _ there.”

“Do it.” Dirka repeated, and Dean shrugged and fiddled with the controls. The Larkan seal, a bundle of wheat crossed with a scythe in front of a tree, arose from the projector, and an automated voice announced that the offices was currently closed.

“See? I keep telling-” Dirka had subtly twitched a hand, and one of the twi’lek bodyguards hit him across the face with the butt of a lance. “What the kriff was that for?”

“You know of their personal comms,” said Dirka. “Call that instead of the official channels.”

“Look, laserbrain, can’t you understand that I  _ left _ them? I don’t know anything about how-” Another hit, and Dean cried out as the bruise that bloomed earlier opened as a cut. “Fine! Fine.”

Dean could only pray that Sam still remembered the security details they had in place. It wasn’t quite the first time that somebody in their family was used as a hostage, and in Dean’s case, the whole family knew that his current line of work was dangerous.

The comm beeped, indicating that the line pushed through. Dean held his breath, almost certain that at any moment, Sam’s face would show up on the projector in alarm.

The comm beeps eventually faded into an automated voice saying that the line was unavailable at the moment, and Dean exhaled. “I told you -”

Dirka’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his hand at the gamorrean with the axe, once more. The gamorrean raised his weapon, and Dean cried out, “no!”

The gamorrean sliced the arm of one of the other thugs holding Castiel down off. The thug screamed, other hand going to their shoulder, and another guard steps forward and brings out a device that covered the wound left by the amputated limb and carried the thug when they passed out. A twi’lek danced in, recovered the severed arm, and gave it to Dirka. 

Who promptly ate it. 

Dean could barely hold down his vomit. Dirka slithered to Dean again, and Dean could imagine smelling the metallic smell of blood wafting off of Dirka’s breath as he spoke. “I will give your family until tomorrow, and after that, I will take care of you as I see fit, if you and your companion are of no use to me then being devoured will be the least of your worries.” He turned to the guard who had been quietly waiting by the cell's entrance. “Make sure they survive.” The guard nodded and hurried into the cell.

Dirka slithered away, taking his posse with him, and once the coast was clear, the guard pulled Dean up into a sitting position from the floor. Dean finally had a chance to look at him. He was a red-skinned twi’lek in a black armored jumpsuit, and just beside him lay a two-bladed force pike. “You okay, brother?”

“Define ‘okay’,” Dean said, wincing. “If ‘okay’ means feeling like you’ve been trampled by a bantha then I’m just peachy.”

“I have a few bacta packs that should help, but you’ll probably want to take a full bacta bath in order to look pretty again,” the guard offered, and handed Dean a bandage. 

Dean opened up the pack and put it directly on the cut on his cheekbone, and sighed at the feeling of the cool regenerative on his skin. “Thank you.”

“You can call me Benny,” the guard said, his two head tails twitching behind him.

Dean glanced at Castiel who stood at the side, as if he was afraid to even touch Dean, and Dean painfully tried to pay him no mind beyond what was necessary. “I’m Dean, as you know, and that’s Cas.”

“Castiel,” Castiel clarified. “I’m Castiel.”

“Wish we could have met in better circumstances, but we work with what we got. You thought about my offer?” Benny asked, stepping back from Dean. 

“Let’s do it,” Dean agreed, “I would rather not waste any more time in this hellhole.”

“He can join too,” Benny said, indicating Castiel with a tip of the head and a shake of a head tail, “provided he can keep it together long enough around them spice dens.”

Dean looked at Castiel expectantly, who looked hurt and taken aback. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Good. The more the merrier,” said Benny. “I need you as a distraction. Create enough havoc in the camp away from the slave holding cells while I get who I need - including your other Jedi friend, of course - and then we bust out of here and leave everyone else at the mercy of the escaped slaves.” Benny scoffed. “I’m sure they would be more than happy to take matters into their own hands.”

“Wait, so that’s your master plan? Use us as bait, and as we run around making a mess, you take advantage, then we leave?”

“Yes,” Benny said simply.

“I’m in,” Dean said. He looked at Castiel, who nodded at him. “So, when do we do this?”

“Give me a few minutes. Let me get all of your things from storage, plus a few other surprises you can use. Then when I come back, we run our play.”

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed, and waved Benny off. The twi’lek gave him a nod and shut the cell behind him. 

With Benny gone, Castiel seemed to finally have the courage to speak to Dean. “Dean, I-”

“Save it, Cas.” Dean said abruptly. “I don’t want to hear it. If you want to drug yourself to high heavens I won’t stop you. I don’t have to agree or like it, but what you do with your body is up to you.”

“Dean, you know why I-”

“I’m not done,” Dean cut him off. “My problem is when I need you to have my back, and I cannot trust you because you’ve done this to yourself. You are the reason we’re in this place, and the best thing you could at least do is to heal me so we can leave this force-forsaken place.”

Castiel sighed, then sat down on the floor. “I’m currently incapable of such, as they seem to have injected a Force suppressant. I cannot touch the Force at all.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and internally winced. He couldn’t tell how Castiel felt about it, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to know. “I’m sorry, then,” was all he could say.

The cell was silent as they waited for Benny to come back. 


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel was thankful that Dean had fallen asleep soon after the guard, Benny, left. It gave him time to think without the feeling that someone was watching him.

When Castiel woke up from his drugged stupor, his first reaction was to scan himself and see if he was wounded any other way. He reached out for the force, and felt nothing. He shuddered. This had to be a spice induced nightmare, he must still be passed out. He shut his eyes firmly and told himself to wake up. He opened his eyes, reached out again and encountered the same emptiness as before.

He panicked. Castiel only had the presence of mind to approach Dean, because it was  Dean , but he couldn’t do anything to help. He had nothing.

He felt like he lost his eyesight, or it was like he’d lost one of his limbs and nothing was left but air and the phantom sensation that there was something that was supposed to be there.

He had heard about and seen some those things during the war, things that dark jedi used when they captured prisoners, what they gave the Jedi as their own brand of torture. He had heard of stories of drugs that made every touch of the Force sting and stab, and seen masks that make your skin crawl, but you cannot scratch at it as it crawled only in your thoughts and ate at your feelings. He had been lucky enough to be spared, and not once during his service had he been subjected directly to any such torture, even when he got into trouble or was temporarily caught. He had experienced being trapped in rooms that deadened the Force to a whisper, but never anything that remove its presence entirely.

A Force suppressant ran through his veins, most likely injected while he was passed out from the sedative fed to him through the spice. 

Touching down on the Leviathan camp had been his last straw.

The past had never been a topic that Castiel handled well. He had never been good at trying to work through what he felt, preferring instead to siphon emotions into the Force and letting his feelings fade. It had been working wonderfully until the massacre. 

Feeling thousands of strong voices cry out as they died changed everything, and the darkness that followed that loss, haunted Castiel to this day. He was so reluctant to even touch the Force, to feel such pain, and so had turned to substances to soothe himself with. 

Substances he didn’t have access to while on the Impala.

Then add to that the conversation where Castiel was forced to think about how his and Dean’s relationship slowly collapsed; it was right on the edge of too much. Dean’s presence, although soothing, had became a bit prickly as Castiel dodged the conversation, and due to the awkwardness of the moment, Castiel had avoided Dean, and Dean had avoided him. It was good for Castiel, and terrible for him as well.

For the past week he had been anchored on Dean’s light, drunk on his presence, soothed by his brightness. It dimmed when they had to part ways for a while, but at first it was still enough.

But the camp was different. As a Jedi, he had been to plenty of nasty places, but he always had the Force wrapped around him as a cloak of comfort and protection. His trauma and that immense darkness that always clouds his vision had rendered this cloak all but useless.

There was a heaviness looming within the area. People were shackled down with the weight of their situation, the unwanted servitude thrust upon them like a sword, and most of them felt like they were as good as dead. Castiel had seem some people walk by with actual shackles, and his lightsaber hand twitched a few times as he saw a guard or two kick a being for walking too slow. There was some kind of dark taint in the air, and everyone’s Force presence was clouded with darkness of anger and despair. 

This was a terrible place, and Castiel felt it to his core. Dean was very focused on their mission, well as he should be, but that did not help Castiel as he had nothing to cling to as Dean went through the motions of acquiring Samman’dryiel. 

Everything started to overwhelm him. He could not breath. Everything was too much, and there was too much noise. One of the people in the camp was being beaten, and Castiel could feel his pain. Another was in despair, and it radiated towards Castiel. Someone else was enjoying the torture they were inflicting upon another being, and the feeling was sharp and slimy and dark. 

Castiel could not understand it. His shields had been the highest they could be, but they were tainted by the darkness into transparency.

When Dean had left to fix the paperwork, Castiel heard some guards talk about spice dens that were free for visitors, and he thought that a few minutes worth of smoking shouldn’t hurt.

He was too preoccupied with the idea that the pain would dull down after taking in the drug that he did not notice that it was laced with sedatives. By the time that he realized something was wrong, it was too late. 

Dean was very, very disappointed in him, and Castiel did not need the Force to be told that. Dean had asked Castiel if he could heal him, and he could not. Hell, Dean was beaten up in front of him, and he couldn’t do anything but watch, especially as they stood over him with their axes and blasters. If he had the Force, he could have created some sort of diversion, or even escaped. He could not even feel Dean’s presence in the Force anymore, and that was worse than the feeling of helplessness and pain that Castiel felt right now. 

“All right chief,” Benny finally rapped on the door of the cell, “it’s time to go.” Castiel looked up, drawn away from his thoughts. The cell door slid opened, and Benny came in right as Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Had a good nap?”

“Very. I’m feeling better already,” Dean replied with a slight grin, although the cut on his face and the ring of swollen red around one of his eyes undermined his answer. Castiel could not stop staring at Dean’s face, but at the same time, he wanted to look away. He did not want to see the effects of his mistakes, but he needed to see in order to not do it again. 

“Cas, you with us?” Dean said, drawing Castiel out of his thoughts and self-flagellation. Castiel nodded, and Dean tossed him his lightsaber and the special holster he had for it. There was also a utility belt filled with explosives gingerly handed to him. 

Castiel watched as Dean double-checked his blaster rifle, and made sure his knife was strapped to his boot. He slung on his shoulder holster and a blaster pistol made it into the holster.

“We’ll rendezvous at the hangar in 30,” Dean said. They left the detention area and into the cool, open air of the Leviathan camp. The moons were dim up in the sky, perfect for their siege. Benny gave out his final instructions regarding the different directions where Castiel and Dean would need to head, and Dean had responded that they were ready. 

Benny swung his head tails in a nod, and they split up. Dean led Castiel in the opposite direction, towards the guard house that the red twi’lek pointed out. Dean nodded, and Castiel set some timed charges across the front.

“Ready?” Dean asked. Castiel gave him a nod, and Dean grinned. “Let’s light some shavit up.”

Castiel tossed into the window a couple of flash grenades, which exploded with a bright light. When he could hear scrambling and panicking inside the compound, he retreated with Dean and lit the detonator. 

The explosion was spectacular. Debris scattered across the courtyard, and the compound sealed itself from the front. There were screams inside that Castiel ignored, and a part of him was almost thankful that he felt the Force no longer.

From behind them was a much larger structure, and guards came pouring in. Dean shot one of the thugs that came too close, and yelled at Castiel to get to the next building and set the charges, while Dean covered him. The two scrambled to the next building, this one seems to be for communications, as indicated by the huge radar dish on top. Castiel slid across the dirt and right on the steps and headed inside. A technician sat up in surprise at Castiel, blinking his eyes slowly as if he just awoke from a nap. He held out his left hand, and then caught himself, painfully aware that he had not the Force. He instead removed the magnetic lock holding down the lightsaber in his wrist, and twisted his right hand in a menacing arc as he turned on the saber. The lightsaber whirled in yellows around him as he spun it. 

The technician jumped out of the window in fear. Satisfied, Castiel turned off the lightsaber and set the charges, and jumped out of the windows himself. He whistled to Dean, who ran towards him as he let off a few shots in the direction of the thugs that were following him, and they slipped threw an alley before flipping the detonation switch. It went off in a blinding flash of electricity, and the whole camp’s lights blew out. 

“That was the generator,” Dean said unhelpfully. “What did you do?”   
  


“I did not know that the comms building was attached to their power source!” 

After the initial shock, Castiel could hear that the guards have resumed their chase. Castiel was about to turn on his lightsaber when he felt Dean hold his arm down. “Don’t,” the other whispered. “The dark makes it harder for them to follow us.” Dean then handed Castiel a blaster, which he considered with some sort of disdain. “There’s no time to be finicky about the ‘inelegance of a blaster’, Cas, let’s go!”

Castiel reattached the lightsaber back to his holster, and accepted the blaster. Dean pushed them into a small room that appeared to be a supply hold, and shut the door behind them. Cas pressed against the door, listening. 

A barrage of footsteps went past. Castiel turned, and was immediately in Dean’s face. He could feel the other man’s breath against his lips. “It’s tinier than I expected,” Dean spoke. Castiel could feel Dean’s arm go around him, and Dean drew him closer, and Castiel’s chest touched his.

Castiel held his breath, and he could feel Dean press something behind him. 

Dean swore, “Door’s jammed.”

Castiel sighed, and turned. He removed his lightsaber from the holster again, and smoothly sliced through the door to create a big enough hole to creep out of. 

Of course, the guards saw the light from afar, and Castiel could hear them hollering to head in the direction of where they were. Castiel followed Dean as they ran ahead of the pack that chased them as he gingerly clipped his saber again. Castiel threw a grenade at the mass of guards behind them, and felt the air that accompanied the sound of the explosion as it took out some of the thugs. Dean gestured in a direction and the two turned to slip through another alley, and they both ended up in a wide area where Castiel could see the hangar. They were so close.

An honest-to-Force Armoured Assault Tank hovered in front of them, with an accompanying telltale whine that said yes, it was operational, and yes, it was going to obliterate Dean and Castiel if they gave it a reason to. 

Castiel stopped, and fingered the array of explosives on his person. They were probably enough to take down this tank, but not the swoop bikes he could hear just behind the tank.

“Dean, stand down. They win this round,” Castiel said grudgingly, holding an arm out. 

Dean’s arms were still raised at a ready, his rifle just looking for a direction to shoot in. “We can take this tank. We have enough bombs.”

“Not for the two swoops in the back,” Castiel explained, and Dean lowered his rifle. 

“What swoops?”

“I can hear them. Higher pitch whine,” Castiel said. “Spent enough time with them in the war.”

Dean sighed, and raised his arms in surrender. Castiel did as well, and a couple of thugs walked towards them. One of them spat in Castiel’s face in contempt. 

“This is for all the good folk you killed in the guardhouse,” the twi’lek said, and slammed the end of a shock stick he held into Castiel’s stomach. Castiel cried out in agony when the blunt edge hit him, and electric pulses traveled through him which made his muscles contract, and he dropped to the floor, unmoving. Another went forward and kicked him in the head, and everything went dark.

\-----

When Dean came to, he was in a set of binders, with Benny standing beside him. He was supported by a Gamorrean guard, the other clutching him like a rag doll. He shrugged the guard off, and stood on his own. He looked up and saw Dirka on a dais, surrounded by skimpily dressed dancers of different species and genders, and at his foot slumped Castiel. 

“What did you do to him?” Dean demanded, and he tried to go towards the other man. The gamorrean held him back with one hand.

Dirka spoke in a booming tongue, apparently deciding that Dean was not worth his time any longer. The Huttese was translated by a shiny protocol droid standing beside Dirka. “He is currently in perfect bliss with one of the Leviathan concoctions of spice,” the droid said. “It feels good to keep a Jedi as docile as a porg at the foot of my throne. I’ll keep him this way, devouring him piece by piece. I do like my food fresh.”

Dirka looked at Benny, and threw his head back in booming, sarcastic laughter. “You really think I would put your own flesh and blood with the others? I keep them as collateral,” the droid translated. “You’re not the first servant I held where I used their loved ones to keep them in line. When I’m done with you, I’m keeping them. I think your mate would make for a good dancer, her lithe form would make such graceful movements. Your daughter would grow to be one of my personal attendants. Useful.”

The hutt turned to Dean, and narrowed his eyes. “You, on the other hand, have outlived your importance. Do you know how expensive people are? And my communications array, and my main generator!” The hutt turned to a guard, and said something in huttese that the droid did not translate. 

Dean glanced at Benny, who looked confused. “What?”

“He’s talking about a pet crab. What-”

Benny didn’t get a chance to finish his words. The two male beings were picked up by the gamorrean guards, and the floor beneath them opened up into transparisteel. Below was a wide, walled space, and from the angle Dean was in, he could not see a way out. A small door opened just in front of the dais, and the two gamorreans dropped Benny and Dean inside.

The drop was not as high as it seemed to be, and Dean rolled forward to expend momentum. Benny seemed to also have the same idea, as Dean saw him stand a few meters away.    
  


“You okay?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” Benny responded. He looked up, and Dean did as well. The transparisteel gave a clear view to the throne room above, and from Dean’s angle, he could see Dirka watching. “This is new.”

“It doesn’t look new.”   
  


“Then it’s my first time seeing it,” Benny said flatly. 

  
A loud, shrill noise echoed around the chamber. Dean looked at Benny, and immediately surveyed what was on his person. The guards seemed to have left the ones that he hid in his boots, and he tossed the twi’lek an extendable baton. He produced a small, hold out blaster and a vibroblade for himself.

Dean turned, and could see that the chamber extended just beyond the light provided by the transparisteel flooring. There was a groaning sound of something large and metal being raised, and then a screeching noise from the darkness. 

A huge beast emerged. 

It was green and massive, with six legs. Sharp claws tapped loudly on the floor, and the thing shrieked again, revealing huge, sharp teeth that lined its mouth, and on its back was what appeared to be a tough, green shell. 

Dean’s insides froze, and he gulped. “An acklay.”

“Oh. Pet crab,” Benny said, and he backpedaled. Benny’s head tails seemed to freeze in trepidation. “Thanks for the useless baton, chief.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and tossed Benny the blaster he held. He brandished the short vibroblade, feeling very very inadequate. He had another surprise up his sleeve, but he couldn’t see an opening. He doubted that there would be plenty of things that could wound that strong hide.

“Sithspit.”   
  
The acklay crawled forward slowly, as if surveying what it had before it. Dean could see its three eyes look around at first, then slowly focus on him and Benny. “Run!” Dean yelled, and the beast roared. 

Benny went around it, narrowly avoiding its claws, while Dean slid right under it. The acklay reared, and turned around. It started poking its claws at them, slamming them on the ground as Dean did his best to evade. 

He remembered those whack-a-mole games he used to play at an arcade his parents brought him to at Coruscant, and thought that he now knew what those plastic moles felt like. 

“Benny watch out!” Dean cried as the acklay slammed down its claws at Benny, who was backed against the wall. Benny narrowly threw himself to the ground, head tails flying, as the acklay struck towards the wall. Dean got up, and ran at the beast. He took his short vibro-blade and jumped up, ramming the blade in the softer, white chitin underneath the acklay.

The acklay cried out, and turned around to face Dean.

“You made it mad!” Benny screamed at him, and Dean ran back under the transparisteel flooring with the acklay right behind him. Benny took the blaster and shot at the acklay, aiming for the same chitin that Dean had hit. It shrieked in pain again. “So it has a weak spot,” Benny said.

But Dean didn't pay any attention to Benny. Instead he looked up at Castiel, who was now watching them attentively from above. Everyone was cheering for the acklay below and paid Castiel no mind. Castiel nodded at Dean, and the man above turned on his lightsaber, quickly cut a hole through the door where Dean and Benny was thrown in, and Castiel dropped the hilt of the saber through it. Dean dove for it, caught it, then ran at the acklay, which was currently still trying to get at Benny.

Dean turned the lightsaber on. A yellow shaft of light emerged, and it never ceased to amaze Dean how impossibly light the weapon was. He handled it carefully and in one smooth move, cut one of the acklay’s hindmost legs off. 

The acklay staggered, and Dean moved to cut another hind leg, and then turned off the lightsaber and dropped it. As efficient and exhilarating as it was, the shaft of pure energy was unnerving to work with, especially with how light it was, and he didn't want to accidentally cut off one of his limbs. He grabbed his vibroblade’s handle and pulled it swiftly from the acklay, which turned around and dragged itself to face Dean with its four remaining legs. 

Dean used the vibroblade and ran under the acklay, evading its legs, and cut the soft chitin open. He grabbed the thermal detonator from a hidden sleeve pocket, turned it on, and shoved it into the wound.

“Benny!” Dean called out in warning, and Dean ran as fast as he can away from the acklay. The acklay attempted to stagger towards him, and then exploded into a mess of chitin, meat, and blue blood. 

“Found an exit!” Benny called out from the darkness, and Dean followed. He made sure to grab Castiel’s lightsaber from the floor first, and ran in the direction of Benny’s voice. 

“Locked,” Benny said, and Dean wordlessly handed Benny his vibroblade. He turned on the lightsaber again, and sliced through the door like butter. “Useful,” Benny commented.

“Very,” Dean answered, and turned it off. Benny handed Dean the blaster, and they ran into the hall outside. 

Dean shot the first guard that he saw while Benny sliced another thug. They ran up a set of stairs, and Dean pushed a being that met them down the stairs. He shot a gamorrean in the face, and they turned a corner, and found the throne room in disarray.

Castiel had managed to grab hold of a gamorrean axe and was currently busy hacking at anyone who came near him. Dirka was split open and bleeding mucus, but still hurling curses at Castiel. Dean grimaced in disgust, and tossed the lightsaber at Castiel. Castiel immediately turned it on, whirled around and sliced the hutt into two.

With their master dead, everyone else appeared to have decided it was every man for himself. No one paid the three any mind, and they all ran out of the throne room and into a set of corridors. Benny led the way, but before they could even see the door leading out, Castiel stopped. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

“I thought I heard someone scream for help,” Castiel explained.

Benny turned back. “I heard it too.” The twi’lek then froze, and started to run back down the way they came.

Dean shrugged at Castiel, and they followed. Benny stopped in front of a door, where he can hear the screaming from. “Open it!” Benny yelled, and Castiel stepped forward.

“Stand away from the door!” Castiel called out to the people inside, drew his lightsaber, and cut into the metal. The door split in half, the pieces falling backward into the room.

“Andrea. Liza.” Benny ran at the twi’leks inside, and caught the blue adult in his arms and gave her a kiss. He knelt in front of the purple child, and she launched herself at him.

“We have to go,” Benny said in basic to his family, and the two started conversing in Ryl and with their head tails. Castiel tried his best not to watch, but he found that he kept looking at the three twi’leks and a feeling a wave of jealousy, and Castiel was not sure why. He shook his head, and stared forward into the other end of the corridor.

Benny eventually emerged with his family, and led the way towards the garage. A couple of thugs fought over the last remaining speeder, and Castiel whistled to catch the beings’ attention. The thugs paused and turned to the group, and Dean shot them point blank with the blaster. 

Castiel turned to Benny, who had a hand over his daughter’s eyes, who pointed at the workbench where a list of speeder codes was posted. Castiel yelled out the code, and Dean hopped in and started the speeder. Everybody piled in, and Dean drove in the direction of the hangar. 

Castiel did not look back. 


	11. Chapter 11

They found Samman’dryiel in the hangar, hiding behind a few boxes, near the Impala. Dead bodies littered the floor, and Samman'dryiel emerged with a blaster in hand. “Come any closer and I'll- oh, it's you. Thank you for getting me out of there.” He said upon seeing Benny. Dean pushed Castiel forward, and Samman'dryiel stepped forward as well. “Castiel?”

“Samm!” Castiel rushed forward and caught the young green twi'lek in a hug. The twi’lek blinked confusedly, not used to such displays of affection.

“Knight Nov-vak.” Samman’dryiel tipped his head, His head tail wrapped itself around his neck like a scarf. “It is good to see that you survived.”

Castiel stepped back, the joy on his face more controlled, more reserved. “As did you, padawan.” 

Dean turned to Benny as the two jedi talked. “Benny, may I offer you and your family a ride?”

“Nah, brother, I can take it from here,” Benny replied. “I saw an untouched shuttle in the other hangar bay, and we were thinking we would go somewhere nice.”

“Like Alderaan!” The youngest twi’lek piped up, and covered her mouth with a purple head-tail. 

Dean chuckled, and leaned down. “You’ve always wanted to go to Alderaan?”   
  


The little girl nodded, and hid behind her dad. Benny smiled. “Yeah, maybe Alderaan. They’re accepting of refugees and people like us.”   
  
“Keep Larka in your thoughts,” Dean offered. “You’re always welcome there.”

“Thank you,” Benny said. He looked at Castiel, then at Samman’dryiel. “I think I understand what you’re doing now. How many Jedi have you helped?”

“Not enough,” said Dean, watching the two converse. Castiel seemed to be telling Samman’dryiel in low, reassuring tones what happens next, while the other being listened carefully. “How did the others go?” asked Dean, remember the rest of the people they left in holding.

“Gave them the key and their own set of weapons,” Benny replied. An explosion behind him punctuated his statement. “We should get a move on.”

Dean handed him a small datapad. “You can contact me on any of those codes. And also, if you can keep Cain’s real persona,” Dean gestured to himself, “on the down low, it’d be much appreciated.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Dean held out a hand and said, “May the Force be with you and your family.”

Benny shook the offered hand. “The Force be with you as well, my friend.” 

Dean waved as Benny and his family left, and he approached Castiel and Samman’dryiel, and hurried them onto the ship. As they ascended, Dean noted that there was one other blip on his radar, and thanked the Force that Benny and his family made it out safely. Dean let the navicomputer do its work, calculated the best routes to Larka, and eased the ship into hyperspace.

Once they were a good distance away from Ryloth, Dean pulled up his comms, and called Sam. It hadn’t even rung twice when Sam picked up, and immediately asked, “Are you okay? What happened? Did you get the jedi? How's Castiel?”

“We're fine, we're good, we're okay, we got the being out and he's currently safe with us,” Dean reassured. “Thank you for not answering the call Sam. Otherwise it would have been hell to get out of there.”

“I never answer comms when the codes weren't recognised and when the line isn't secured, it's our standard operating procedure,” Sam said. “What happened?”

“Dirka Roma happened.”

“Dirka the Leviathan?” Sam's eyes widened. “You actually met the crime lord? How? Why? The plan-”

“Plans are only good when wrenches are not thrown in them,” Dean explained. 

“What wrenches?”

“How's Larka?” Dean evaded bluntly, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

Thankfully, the other man went with it anyway. “Larka is… we might be in trouble, Dean.” 

Dean leaned forward, frowning. “I'm listening.” 

“Politically speaking, the Empire has been leaving us mostly alone,” Sam explained. “No one pressured us to accept a new governor, at least  _ not yet _ , and the old moff of the sector used to mostly just ignore us, thanks to Dad’s leverage.”

“Get this: the moff of our sector had been reassigned, so now the Empire had moved against us and gave us a new governor- Governor Abaddon Daemun. She used to be a local prefect, and climbed in ranks through assassinations and sheer ruthlessness, according to my sources.”

Dean took his datapad, and started searching for her through the holonet. He whistled at what he found, and looked up at Sam. “She is bad news Sam. ‘...engineered a massacre of impoverished beings on Wallala to curtail the blight of spice-use’, according to one underground ‘zine, and according to another as a prefect spearheaded a project which killed a whole agricultural town in order to utilize geothermal energy from beneath the planetary surface. She also converted a mining planet into a resort and killed millions, and bulldozed a city to attempt to make an agricultural paradise.” Dean released a controlled breath. “She’s gonna be a problem, her decisions don’t even make  _ sense _ . If she finds out about my personal project, if she even  _ ends up _ on Larka, we’re completely farkled.” 

“They have just recently put tariffs on our exports. It’s been a huge blow on the economy. Several companies have already put in notice that they’re leaving in a month if it does not change. There hasn’t been any panic locally yet, Dad says, but it would only take one Imperialist to topple things and stir up trouble if we don’t take care of this.”

“They’re holding us hostage,” Dean realized, and Sam nodded at him. “Has there been any demands?”

“Mom and Dad are calling for a meeting Dean. No secure holos for this one; we can’t risk it. You have to come back to Larka as soon as possible.”

“We’re on the way,” said Dean. “If there are any changes, I’ll pull you up on comms.”

Sam nodded in response, and the projector goes blank. Dean sat back thoughtfully, and left the cockpit to give Castiel and Sammand’ryiel the news. 

He was just about to knock on Castiel’s door, but it slid open. Castiel blinked at Dean in surprise, but managed a small “yes?” upon seeing the other man. 

“I was just going to tell you we were heading to Larka,” said Dean. “There's something big and potentially bad happening, and I need to be there.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Castiel said. “I will do my best to help.”

Dean gave a nod, and was about to leave when Castiel called. “Dean.”

Dean turned. “Yeah?” 

“I just wanted to let you know that I still can’t touch the Force, and I’m getting worried.” Castiel said, not looking at Dean. “I don't want to worry you as well, but I thought I would raise this concern. I know it is important to you that you can count on me, and I might not be as effective with this…affliction.”

“How long has it been?”

“We've been travelling for a few hours, and the last dose they gave me was 6 hours ago in the throne room,” Castiel said. “I've done some scans in the hold with your emergency medical set-up, and the suppressant is supposedly well out of my system.”

“You sure?” Dean asked. “Maybe it's one of them slow-release medications.”

“I don't think those exist for Force suppressants,” Castiel said. “And I did the tests twice.”

Dean tsked. They did not need this complication right now. 

“We don't have to do anything just yet, I just wanted you to know that I might not be able to help at full capacity.”

Dean sighed. He looked at Castiel, really looked at him. The other man was hunched in on himself. His foot tapped restlessly. Castiel looked up at Dean's silence, and Dean saw Castiel's eyes were dull and tired, and the other man lacked his steady thrum of energy he seemed to always have.

“Maybe the medical center at Larka might help,” Dean said. “Maybe the suppressant's still in your system somehow, scanner's probably broken.”

“I would be thankful for any help you can give,”Castiel said. 

There was a knock at the door, and it slid open. “I could not help but overhear your problem,” Samman'dryiel said. 

Dean raised an eyebrow, and Samman'dryiel shrugged. “The walls are not as thick as you think them to be, especially to someone who is adept in the Force. I did not mean to overhear your conversation.”

Dean thought back to his childhood, and winced. That explained Sam's cranky mornings whenever Dean brought a partner over. 

“I know someone who might be able to help,” the younger man said. “I have not told you how I managed to escape the massacre.”

Nobody responded, and Samman'dryiel continued. “My master and I had a mission at Nar Shaddaa. The order came out to kill all Jedi. There may be not much of an Imperial presence at Nar Shaddaa but it is a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and they had determined my Master and I are worth something due to our status.” Samman'dryiel started pacing, his head tails twitching behind him. “During a confrontation we were separated, and I found Master Aeng'l.” At this news Dean perked up, and exchanged a look with Castiel. 

“He managed to acquire a change of clothes to disguise who I am. We thought it was risky to travel together, and so we went on separate ships. My transport was captured by pirates, and in the interest of protection I did not fight back.” Samman'dryiel stopped and looked at Castiel and Dean. “You must understand, I'm a 16 year old Jedi Padawan and there was a ship worth of pirates, and all the security on the transport had been dispatched at that point. Fighting back would just result in my worthless death as there was no way I would have won against them single-handedly, or worse, they would have turned me in to the Empire for bounty. I kept my head down, but Dirka liked having a Jedi in with his slaves, and thus spread the word that I was dangerous, and no one bought me." Samman'dryiel exhaled shakily. "If you hadn't come, Dirka might have made me into his pet soon after. He had visited the cells a few times and insinuated as much."

“We believe that you did what you can, padawan,” Castiel reassured, and Samman'dryiel seemed to relax. The other's head tails seemed to relax as well. 

“Do you know where Gabriel is now?” Dean asked.

“Kattada System was the only information he gave me, aside from the name ‘Anan Siloki.’”

“Then we'll head there first,” Dean said upon standing up. He gestured at Samman'dryiel. “Toss me one of those datapads?”

Samman'dryiel walked to a nearby table, took a datapad, and gave it to Dean. Dean pulled up the star system. “Oh good, it's actually a doable number of parsecs from Larka. We can do a quick pitstop.”

“You can just leave me there if need be,” Castiel offered, and Dean glared at him. Castiel drew back.

“I am not losing you again, no matter how much of a pain in the ass you are,” Dean said. “He should be helpful as a former Master, especially since he's yours, Cas.”

“He might be more attuned to Castiel's Force presence and could see what is happening,” Samman'dryiel said. “As it is at the moment, I can barely tell you are there, Knight Nov-vak. It isn't like anything I have ever seen before, but I have not seen a great deal, to be honest.”

Castiel seemed to draw into himself further, and Dean frowned. As mad as he was at the other man he did not want Castiel to suffer or be hurt. Dean put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. 

“We're going to Kattada, we're going to talk to Gabriel, and we are going to fix this. Capisce?” 

Castiel echoed, “Capisce.” 

\---

“This is somewhere my master would settle on indeed,” Castiel remarked as he saw the view outside the cockpit. There was a wide expanse of clear blue water, dotted with green, dark and light browns, and when the ship drew closer Castiel realized that they were small islands turned into resorts and settlement. 

“Idyllic,” Dean remarked, and Castiel nodded in agreement.

“Master Aeng’l should be somewhere on this planet,” Samman'dryiel said. “We should land and ask around for his whereabouts.”

“What did you think we were doing, a fly-by?” Dean quipped. The Impala landed smoothly onto one of the islands, and a green near-human female met them. 

“Greetings. Do you have a reservation?”

“No,” said Dean. “But we are here to visit a friend.”

“Yes?”

“Anan Siloki,” Samman'dryiel explained. “I am an acquaintance. He calls me Alfie.”

The greeter raised her eyebrow. “An acquaintance.”

Dean sighed, and shouldered Samman'dryiel aside gently. “Sorry about that. We're his friends. We were hoping that he is available and is planetside?”

“Of course. Our personal visit policy however requires clearance from the head security officer, and you are not currently in our list.”

“Look, could you please just-”

“You may have to remain sequestered on this docking pad as we determine your status. Unless you are a tourist, you will not be allowed beyond the docking pad. If you are to check in as a tourist, please feel free to contact any of the Kattada officials and they will escort you to the tourism office.”

“And if we go beyond?” Castiel asked quietly.

“This docking pad is surrounded by water, and the extendable bridgeway have guards on the other end,” the greeter chirped. “If you do try, rest assured that we will arrest you. Do you have anymore questions?”

“How long will this take?”

“Our customer service is ranked really well in the galaxy. We will attend to you shortly.”

“Bureaucracy,” Castiel murmured in annoyance.

“Worse,” Dean said. “Protocol.”

“Those mean the same thing, Dean,” said Castiel.

“She's coming back,” Samman'dryiel observed, and the two promptly went quiet. 

“Mr. Siloki comm'd in and said that he was to admit Alfie and his companions. Please follow me.”

The being led them over the extendable bridge, then into a tunnel under the water. It was breathtaking, Castiel observed, as they walked beneath a huge expanse of transparisteel designed to show off the living creatures in the ocean above. A huge ray flew above them, and Castiel smiled at the sight. Samman'dryiel seemed to be as enamored as well, whilst Dean just looked uncomfortable. 

“It won't break, don't worry,” Castiel offered in the way of comfort.

“I'd be worried about the sheer amount of pressure on that transparisteel anyway,” said Dean. “I'm too busy looking for possible cracks in the clear tank than bother with the fish.”

Castiel frowned in sympathy, and drew closer to Dean. The other man seemed to relax somewhat.

They made their way out of the tunnel and up into a nice resort lobby, with a wide view of the ocean and the white sand that extended around the island. There were boats that dotted the horizon, with wide colorful sails that flew in the wind. Birds chirped around them, and he could see some soaring in the distance. 

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, noticing how Castiel had paused in his steps.

Castiel shook his head. “I'd feel better once we meet Master Gabriel,” he said. Dean nodded, and went ahead. 

It wasn't that Castiel lied, but it wasn't his meeting with Gabriel that gave him anxiety. It was seeing all this life around him, and yet not being able to bask in its calmness due to his lack of connection. He sighed. He should not dwell on what had happened, but instead focus on how to fix it.

They were led into a bustling precinct, with uniformed officers milling about, and a few beings seemed to be waiting to be attended to. Their greeter led them to the impressively shiny precinct protocol droid, and left. 

“Hello, I am GA-33L, the precinct assistant droid. How may I assist you?” 

“Good day GA-33L, we would like to talk to Anan Siloki. Is he in?” Castiel said politely.

“Captain Anan Siloki is currently in a meeting,” the droid replied, “and cannot be disturbed. However, he usually receives visitors in the visitor lounge. Would you like to wait there?”

“Yes, that would be fine GA-33L,” Castiel responded. The group followed the droid, and they were taken to a large, well-lit room with white wicker furniture, and wide windows overlooking the ocean. Even Samman'dryiel had inhaled in surprise at the beautiful view.

They sat on one of the couches, and waited. 

“Nice digs,” Dean commented. “And did you hear? Captain Anan Siloki of this planet's security team. Gabe's really done well for himself.”

“I suppose so,” Castiel replied distractedly. The waiting was starting to get to him. He was not sure what he was going to say to his master. 

He really did not resent Gabriel for leaving. His master deserved to stand by his principles, and even though he did not understand his point of view, he respected them. He wasn't his padawan then anymore, so Gabriel had no responsibility to Castiel. 

Castiel thought that they were friends, at least. His master did not even leave any comm codes, and Castiel needed him. Sure, Castiel had friends in the order, but Gabriel was the one he knew he could talk to without fear of being judged. 

When Gabriel had found out about Castiel’s feelings for Dean, his answer was merely, “I told you to get laid, not fall in-love!”, to which Castiel blushed furiously at, and yelled, “Master, you are not helping!” Gabriel had every opportunity to berate Castiel about his status as a jedi, or about how attachment is forbidden.    
  
Instead, Gabriel talked to him about the one time he fell in love with someone named Kali as a padawan. “It’s a Jedi rite of passage,” he said, with a smile. “I think for most, it is inevitable that someone will touch their heart and make them want that ‘dangerous’ attachment that the order seems to espouse.” Gabriel shook his head. “I chose duty, Castiel.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Gabriel smirked. “I do think about her sometimes, when I am all alone in-”

“Ugh, master!” Castiel recoiled, and Gabriel started laughing.

“Castiel, listen carefully,” Gabriel then said, once his laughter had died down. “If you ask other masters, they would say differently, but there is nothing wrong with attachment. The danger is in not knowing when to let go.”

It was an advice that Castiel never understood, but as a teenager Gabriel never made him feel dismissed.

Gabriel was a really good master. Unorthodox, but good.

The door slid open, and everyone turned expectantly. 

GA-33L walked in bearing a tray filled with juice and fish-shaped bread. Samman'dryiel instantly gravitated to the food and ate like he was starving, with Dean looking on wryly. 

“Hungry, are we?”

“I did not have the chance to feed him,” Castiel said sheepishly. He was busy trying to purge toxins from his bloodstream, and to meditate after the scan results came in, to no avail. He was still unable to touch the Force.

“And'm too fo'ite to eat wivout asking,” Samman'dryiel responded, mouth covered in crumbs. “They didn't exactly feed you in Purgatory- the slave camp.” 

Castiel shook his head. The door slid open again, and he turned.

“I'm here, I'm here, who needs the esteemed- Dean Winchester?”

Gabriel walked in decked out in his crisp white security uniform, complete with a hat. Castiel wasn't sure if the shorts were part of the uniform as well. 

Dean stood up. Castiel watched as Gabriel gave Dean a smooch on the lips, and Dean wiped it with the back of his hand. Dean grimaced.

“I have not seen you in three years! How are you doing? How did you find me? Why did-” 

Gabriel froze and took Dean by the shoulders, squeezing him. “Is Cassie okay? What happened? Have you found him yet?” He sank down in a chair and continued. “When I heard about the massacre at the temple, I thought the worst, but I figured they would have sent him out into the field, he's an amazing strategist, and I am certain I would have felt it if he passed.” 

Castiel frowned. He was just behind Dean, just a little obscured by the other man. But even if Gabriel did not see him, he should have felt his presence in the Force. “Gabriel.” Castiel cut in. “I'm right here.”

Gabriel turned, startled, and gaped at Castiel. “What happened to you?” He stood, and walked towards his old padawan. “Something’s wrong. Your signature is muddier than Dagobah's swamps.”

“Dagobah’s swamp is filled with life, so that is inaccurate,” Samandriel put in. He waved at Gabriel, a glass of juice in his hand. 

Gabriel turned to Dean. “Oh look, you brought the whole of the galaxy. Is John under the couch? Bobby behind the plants?” He nodded at Samman'dryiel. “Glad to see you survived though, my almost-padawan. When you contacted me then didn't arrive I thought something must have happened. I put out feelers, but nothing. Feared the worst.” He pointed at Dean. “I was sure that good ‘ol Cain here had done you in. Knew it was you. You just think you're so clever, wearing those low-key jackets that make you look like a harmless civilian, but anyone with half a brain should be able to put it together if they knew what to look for.”

“I don't have time for your sass Aeng'l; we need your help,” Dean said.

Gabriel pointed to himself. “Little ol’ me? What can I do you for?” 

“I farkled up,” Castiel said, head hanging low.

“Uh-oh. Cassie swore. Must be bad.”

“It is bad,” Dean said. “I think it would be better if he explains.” Dean turned to Castiel. “We'll be around. You have your comlink.” He turned to Gabriel. “We can't take too long; there is an emergency at Larka, but we would be grateful if you can help at least a little.”

Gabriel stood up. “Let me see what I can do, then. Feel free to roam around, do tourist stuff while we talk. Maybe get that kid a new set of robes.” He tipped his head towards Samman'dryiel. “He looks like he just bust out of a slaver's camp.”

“He did bust out of a slaver's camp,” Dean said flatly. 

“Got that accidentally on the nose, sorry kid,” he patted Samman'dryiel on the head. “Talk to GA-33L, he should set you up with a credit line linked to mine. Clothes are on me; pick something pink. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Untwist your panties and relax a little,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “We’ll message you soon.”

Dean and Samman'dryiel left, and Gabriel sat beside Castiel. “So Cassie, what the hell did you do this time?”


	12. Chapter 12

“I have never been that kind of padawan Master, and thus I resent that tone,” Castiel said. “I don't know if you forget but you’re the one who gets into trouble and I am usually the one who saves you.”

“Oh yes.” Gabriel said, and he chuckled. “Accurate as always, padawan mine.” He kneeled in front of Castiel, and sat on his heels. He tapped on the space in front of him, and Castiel mirrored his position. Gabriel sighed, and gestured for Castiel to come closer.

Castiel felt like a padawan again, and the mix of annoyance and nostalgia melded into one agitated mess. 

“Clear your mind padawan, I can see you thinking,” Gabriel said, gesturing animatedly at Castiel. “I may not be able to feel your presence offhandedly, but I still know you and your bad habits.”

Castiel did not answer, and merely closed his eyes with a sigh. He felt around for calm, like an almost-blind man groping for their glasses. 

He did not expect the whisper of a touch from the Force, like a pinprick. 

Castiel yelped, and Gabriel opened his eyes. The former jedi master raised an eyebrow, and Castiel blushed. “I apologize master, I felt something unexpected, like someone was jabbing a needle into my senses.”

“Good,” Gabriel said. “Means you still feel something in the Force, even if little. I just sent you the equivalent of a punch in the face, and got a pinprick. That means we have something to work with.”

“It hasn't gone?” A sharp sense of relief rose in Castiel’s throat, and he swallowed.

“Nah, you're just the equivalent of a dirty windshield at the moment, with some mud crusting on top,” Gabriel said. “What happened?”

“They injected me with Force suppressants.”

“Force suppressants won't have this effect. You’d be muted, not caked with metaphorical dirt. No, something strengthened the effect of suppressants. This sithspit must have latched on to something that has been in your system for months.” His master raised an eyebrow. “So? Have you been huffing ship exhaust?

“Ah.” Castiel looked away. “I self-medicate when needed.”

“With?”

Castiel sighed. “You know what I'm talking about Gabriel.”

“Spell it out for me.” Castiel felt a tap on his cheek, like Gabriel was trying to get him to turn around and look at Gabriel in the eye.

Castiel turned to Gabriel, brow furrowed. He clenched his fists, looking at the floor. “I use substances. Spice, deathsticks, alcohol - it doesn't matter to me.” He looked up at Gabriel. “As long as I can feel like I'm not going crazy from grief, I take what I can.”

“So you're an addict,” Gabriel responded, waving a hand in dismissal.

“I'm not chasing my own pleasure, Gabriel,” Castiel explained, voice tightly held in politeness. “I need to stay sane.”

“Oh Cassie. You have always been good at deluding yourself,” Gabriel said. “You thought the Clone Wars was an inevitable conclusion to the Separatist mess, and that it would end quickly. You thought having Dean Winchester would be easy, and that you’d be able to hold a balance between love and duty. You think you're not an addict despite taking spice during a mission. News flash kid: you are an addict. How’d they catch you in the first place?”

Castiel didn’t respond. His master was testing his patience, and without feeling the Force, Castiel found that he was reaching the end of his stick a little sooner than usual. 

“Let me hazard a guess. You were out saving little miss perfect jedi over there when you found a stash of yummy spice and thought hey, free spice! Of course the slavers, remarkable equivalent of galactic gnats as they are, were smarter than you were expecting and spiked the spice with something that isn't spice.” With each word, Castiel felt like his facial muscles grew tighter and tighter, and he gritted his teeth. Gabriel rocked back on his heels. "Seems like I havent lost my touch."

Castiel forced himself to loosen, but failed. "But I-"

Gabriel cut him off with a low chuckle. "No, you don't get to do that, Castiel Nov-Vak." He pointed at Castiel. "You've been very good at making excuses as a padawan, like when you almost destroyed a negotiation due to ignorance but you were supposed to study the culture of those from Teersak V." Castiel opened his mouth, but quickly shut it upon seeing the steely gaze Gabriel fixed upon him. "You're too old for that poodoo. You are not the only person who lost their family in that damn war, and it ain’t even over yet."

Castiel groaned, and buried his head in his hands. "Master, you don't understand -"

Gabriel leaned forward, and took Castiel's hand. His voice was soft. "Of course I don’t, padawan. I left before everything got real." He scoffed. "Hell, if you talk to Deano, I bet he's called me a coward." He patted Castiel's hand and let it go, but Castiel chased after the hand, and held on. Gabriel smiled at him, and Castiel felt like a youngling again, away from the Jedi Temple for the first time with only his new master to soothe him. "I had to deal with that decision or else I would have risked slipping to the dark side. Fear is such a slippery slope." Gabriel looked at Castiel curiously, and Castiel shifted in discomfort at the attention. "Have you even been doing any upkeep here?" Gabriel tapped the side of Castiel's head, and Castiel batted the hand away.

"Of course I have! Diffusing emotions through the Force is youngling's play!"

Gabriel nodded. "Good, then. And have you actually worked through any of them?"

This gave Castiel a significant pause, and he tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Gabriel waved his hand in a rolling motion. "Yanno, figured out your feelings and why you're feeling them, accepted them for what they are, before releasing them into the wild cosmic thing that binds all of the galaxy together?"

Castiel said nothing. He stared at Gabriel, started for a second, then slumped back in his seat. 

Such words made sense individually, coherent as a whole, but conceptually elusive. Castiel realized that even when he was surrounded with people to talk to that offered emotional support, he never tried to connect. Not with Dean, or any of his other friends in the order. He felt like he was alone in his doubts, but in retrospect, that must not have been the case. It might have hurt, some of the jedi might have been condescending even, but in the same vein, someone might also have been able to help. 

Gabriel must have seen it all in his face, because his only response was to sigh and say, "Oh Cassie."

Castiel sighed, all this was in hindsight however. He wouldn’t have felt able to talk about any of this with Dean. Dean didn’t understand Jedi business, nor the Jedi’s reliance on their emotional distance. And he didn’t trust the other Jedi, he didn’t trust how any of them would have reacted. "I didn't know how." He looked down at the floor. "You were gone, Master. There wasn't anyone left to be honest to." 

"I can't be sorry for doing what mattered to me," Gabriel said quietly.

Castiel shook his head. "And I’m not asking you to be. I am simply stating a fact about how I felt."

Gabriel sighed. "I do understand, padawan," he said. "Jedi are a bunch of judgmental schutta. Wouldn't know how to deal with simply _ being. _ No one's ever taught of how natural emotions were and how they are supposed to be worked through and not just shunted through the Force." He made a circular motion with a finger. "Everything comes back eventually."

Castiel stood up. "This is pointless unless I am able to touch the Force, Master." He turned away, and walked towards the window. He watched the ships in the distance, the waves lap at the beach, the trees that swayed in the wind. He longed to reach through the Force and feel the life he could see before him.

Gabriel stood as well, and approached his padawan."It isn't pointless because you have to learn it anyway." He rolled his eyes. "Thought you were more patient than I am. You're willing to listen to Yoda's wisdom, how come you give me lip?"

Castiel took the respite from the heavy conversation gratefully, and smiled at Gabriel. "Master Yoda has better wisdom, and also words are more difficult to follow so I have to listen carefully."

Gabriel snorted. Castiel turned back to the view."I do wonder if he survived."

"I hope so too, Cassie. He's too young to die." 

Gabriel and Castiel looked at each other. Castiel snorted, and let loose choked laughter and coughing. Gabriel held his stomach and shook uncontrollably. 

The laughter died down, and Gabriel put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "So I have seen the problem, and I think I can fix this. I can plug you back in to the matrix."

Castiel's eyes widened. "You can?"

"Yep," Gabriel said. "Do you want me to?"

Castiel's mouth dropped in disbelief, shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, and glared at Gabriel. "Of course I want you to!"

Gabriel shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face. "It seems like you've been running away from the Force for a while now." Gabriel looked Castiel in the eye. "Castiel, are you really sure you want this?"

\---

Dean paced in front of the locked room, with Samman'dryiel sitting on his heels in a meditative pose. 

"Captain Winchester, I am sure that you will feel much better if you sat down." 

Dean turned to Samman'dryiel, a little surprised. It was the first time the padawan had actually addressed him. "Huh. You've never talked to me before."

"I assure you that it isn't a slight against you. We just have nothing to discuss."

"Right," Dean drawled out. He continued his pacing, and the padawan sighed.

"Would you need a sleep or calming suggestion? Might it help the anxiety blooming within your presence?"

Dean huffed, and sprawled beside Samman'dryiel. "You're not very good with personal space, aren't you kid?"

"I am hardly a child, Captain," Samman'dryiel answered levelly. "And I do not know how to exercise 'personal space' as you seem to define it, not when you broadcast your feelings and reactions very loudly." 

Dean sighed. He stood up again, and started pacing. It was better than sitting still, which made him feel less balanced.

A man in a uniform similar to Gabriel's, but with pants and a far less gaudy insignia walked towards them, and Dean stopped his pacing. “This area is off-limits unless you’re a visitor of anyone with rank.” The man said politely. 

"My apologies, sir. We are just waiting for our friends," Samman'dryiel responded politely. Dean rolled his eyes. The kid sounded like a protocol droid brought to life, and it was starting to get on his nerves. 

"Sorry officer, just waiting for Siloki and his visitor to end their talk," Dean said. "I'm just a little worked up."

“Captain Anan Siloki’s in there, is he not?” The other man said, standing beside the two. “Can’t stay here if he isn’t with you.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, he’s in there, with one of his old friends.”

"Anan does not have friends," the man mused. He gestured for Dean to follow him, and Dean signalled to Samman’dryiel to follow. "Anan gets customers."

"Customers?" Samman'dryiel asked.

The security officer looked at Dean from head to toe, and waggles his eyebrows. "Customers."

Dean made a noise of disgust, and the other man laughed. Dean shook his head with a smile. “That does sound like him.”

“Customers?” Samman’dryiel echoed again, and the officer and Dean just looked at each other, and they laughed.

  
“If you don’t understand it, then you probably should not be part of the conversation kid,” Dean said with a grin. 

“The Jedi produces some innocent bastards, it seems,” the officer murmurs, and Dean laughed again. 

“Something went wrong with Siloki, obviously.” Dean said, then froze, realizing what he just implied. “I mean, I -” He felt Samman’dryiel stiffen beside him, suddenly on full alert.

The other man raised his hands placatingly. “Don’t worry, you’re among friends. Lieutenant Balthazar Roche, at your service. Gabriel has told me all about you.”

Dean released a breath he held, and he removed his hand from his holster. “You know Gabriel?”

“Since before he arrived on Kattada,” Balthazar explained. The security officer led them to a lift, and they all got in. “Met him as a dashing Jedi Knight, before he had a padawan. Quick with a lightsaber, that one.” Balthazar said, leering.

“Ugh, no, don’t talk about him that way,” Dean groaned. 

Samman’dryiel said, “I still don’t understand that reference.”

Balthazar chuckled, and Dean patted Sammandriel’s head, right between his head tails. “It’s okay kid. You don’t need to know.”

“Did you know him well?” Balthazar asked Dean. 

“Somewhat. I know his former padawan.”

  
“Ah, so you’re that pretty senator that Gabriel’s padawan fancied!” Balthazar clapped Dean on the back.

Dean coughed, shrugging Balthazar off. “ _ Pretty? _ ”

“Oh yes. Your boyfriend’s descriptions were very colorful, according to his former master. ‘Eyes greener than the forests of Alderaan with specks of golden Jakku deserts’ was the best description,” Balthazar said with a grin. 

Dean blushed hard, and wasn’t quite able to answer. Samman’dryiel spoke up behind them. “Attachment is not allowed in the Jedi order. How was Knight Nov-vak able to get away with such blatant disobedience?”

Balthazar frowned behind him, and turned to Dean. “Hasn’t gone out much, has he?”

Dean shook his head. “He’s been a perfect Jedi so far.”

“How boring.” Balthazar said, and upon seeing Samman’dryiel’s indignant look. “Look kid, I’m not saying the Jedi are wrong, but there’s nothing wrong with having relationships. Sure as hell won’t make you anyone evil if you know how to cope with heartache.”

The three alighted from the lift, and onto the reception area, where tile met the sand. Wicker chairs and transparisteel tables dotted the space, and Dean could make out a beach bar just beyond, under the shade of a tree. Balthazar led them forward. Dean sighed. “Plenty of them don’t know how to deal with any form of emotion. Believe me, I would know."

Samman'dryiel frowned at Dean's claim. "Strong, negative emotions are best let go and diffused in the Force. Fear, anger, lust for power, jealousy, greed - these emotions may lead to the dark side. Attachments lead to experiencing such feelings and cause us to act in a dangerous way, leading to darkness."

Dean scowled, and stopped in his tracks. He turned to Samman'dryiel. "Yes, but if you know how to deal with these things without letting it affect how you act, you would see that attachments do more good than harm!"

"There is no emotion; there is peace. This has helped Jedi for years upon years."

"For all the good it did; where are -"

"Children, calm down," Balthazar cut in. Dean blinked, drawing back when we realized he was looming over the serene, cool form of Samman'dryiel. He was glad that Balthazar spoke when he had done, or else he would have said something he would have regretted.

"Sorry, it’s what you believe in, it’s none of my business." Dean said, drawing his eyes away. "Subject's just a little touchy for me, and really, I understand where you’re coming from. You’re right, of course, it makes sense, especially since I don’t really know how the Force works."

Samman'dryiel tipped his head in acknowledgment. He stepped back again, letting Dean and Balthazar lead the way. 

"How many times have you and the padawan had the same argument?" Balthazar asked quietly. 

"More than I could count," Dean replied. "Subject just doesn't seem to die no matter who I talk to."

"Part of their core teachings apparently, what can you do eh?" Balthazar said. "Did the rows usually end the same as that one?"

"Yeah well, have to respect his beliefs."

"It's not about respect though, isn't it Winchester? It's about speaking up for what is best for yourself."

Dean paused, kicking up some sand in front of him as he did. "Castiel  _ is _ what is best for me, and I don’t want to drive a wedge between us because I refuse to accept his damn view about attachment. I'm happy to take whatever he gives me."

"So you're just happy to do an impression of a carpet?" Balthazar asked, eyebrow raised. "Just let him walk all over you with whatever he wants? Let him have you, in spite of what you need, however he likes?" 

"It's not like that."

Balthazar scoffed. "Obviously not, obviously you have discussed your need for commitment and clarity, obviously you have mentioned that he needs to make up his mind because you are not waiting forever."

"I am glad to wait for him until he works it out," Dean insisted stubbornly.

"Oh Winchester, have more faith in your Jedi will you?" Balthazar said. "He should be able to have this conversation with you, and choose what is best for you both.."

"And if he leaves?"

"Then he does, and be stronger for it," Balthazar replied. "If it is to be, then he will find his way back."

Dean shook his head. "It's too much of a risk. I would rather-" 

"You’re being a coward, Dean Winchester, and a selfish one at that. This utter shavit selfless, take-what-you-need-from-me attitude is doing no one any favors. You’re holding back, letting the both of you fester in this unhealthy relationship because you are afraid of letting go, yourself. You have to practice what you preach and have some backbone," Balthazar pointed out. "Have this conversation with him, and be brave. Find out where you stand, and let everything fall where it must. Only then will you get the ending you deserve."


	13. Chapter 13

“Of course I’m selfish. Everyone is selfish. No one ever does anything out of the goodness of their heart without an ulterior motive. And people are rarely as brave as they think they are,” Dean muttered under his breath as he tinkered with the shield generator in the engineering bay. He excused himself from the conversation with Balthazar, leaving Samman'dryiel in the other man’s hands. Balthazar had chuckled, slung an arm over the kid, and walked away proclaiming the good times they’ll have together.

Dean had hightailed it back to the ship. He caught a speeder on the way to the docking bays, itching to get away from people. He needed to get his thoughts in order. Balthazar did a number on his head, and the man didn’t even lift a finger. 

The thing was, Dean believed that he was doing what was best for his relationship at the time. He wanted to keep Castiel in any way the other man would accept him. He wanted to let Castiel have the freedom to stay who he was.

But maybe that wasn’t the best for Castiel or for himself. When Dean looked back on the stolen time they spent together, he realized that they were different people. Castiel became trapped between being a Jedi and being someone who loved Dean. Dean didn’t think that those two things had to be mutually exclusive, but he understood now that Castiel didn’t know any other way to be. Dean became someone who was desperate to hold on to any kind of relationship with Castiel, that he was willing to kill his voice just to do so.

Maybe Dean speaking up about what he really wanted, what he really needed out of a relationship with Castiel, would have prompted the other man to realize he needed to sort his feelings out, rather than denying he had any.

Maybe things would not have been as painful for Dean in the long run.

There was a moment in their relationship where Dean had woken up to Castiel sitting on his side of the bed. The Jedi had his head in his hands, and Dean sat up, and put a hand on his bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this. We need to end this,” Castiel said, turning to Dean. He stood up, and grabbed his inner tunic and started slinging it over his torso. He grabbed a pair of pants, and started shrugging them on. 

“Look, Cas, it’s in the middle of the night, you can leave early in the morning if you really have to, just, please -”   
  


“This is against the Jedi code, attachment is forbidden, and we should not be doing this -”

Dean ran his palm over his face, trying to conceal a smile. “Does… does that mean you’re attached to me?”

“Yes. No! You are completely missing the point!” Castiel was putting on shoes, and Dean sat up from the bed in his naked glory and kneeled behind Castiel, and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

“Cas, it’s fine. Attachment is natural, and I-”

“No, Dean,” Castiel snapped, dropping a shoe and jostling Dean off his back. “For regular beings, maybe, but I have a responsibility that I am shirking just being with you here tonight. We can’t keep doing this.”

Dean sighed. This was not the first time this has happened, and Dean was doing everything he could to keep the hurt out of his words. “Castiel, there is nothing wrong with being with someone you care about. You care about Gabriel, don’t you? Your master? You are attached to him in some form-”   
  


“It’s different.”

“No it isn’t, attachment is attachment, and-”

“Dean, stop.” Castiel said. “I cannot turn to the dark side over this. I already have enough problems to deal with.”

“Our relationship isn’t a problem,” Dean insisted. “It’s your hang-up when it comes to emotions, that’s the damn issue.”

Castiel stood up, and turned to Dean. “Attachment is forbidden. Passion is forbidden. This relationship, as you call it, reflects both things, and we should stop while we can.”

Dean sighed, and pulled the blanket towards himself. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right, you know better than me when it comes to how the Force works, and I shouldn’t try to change that.” Dean’s tone was bitter, and he kicked the blanket away from himself. “As we agreed, remember? This doesn’t have to be anything more than two friends finding comfort.”

“And it can’t be anything more,” Castiel said, his shoulder relaxing. “I’m sorry Dean, I just-”

“Look, you could leave in the morning. Just, let’s get back to bed. I don’t know what woke you up, but please, it’ll be fine, and you’ll feel better in the morning.” Dean picked up the blanket from the floor, and went back to his side of the bed. Castiel watched him, then sighed, and he kicked off the one boot he managed to get on. 

When Castiel had climbed back into bed, Dean had not turned around to face him. Neither of them had slept that night.

Thinking about it now made Dean realize he should have pushed the conversation to happen. He handled their relationship like a thermal detonator that might blow up in his face, instead of treating it like something he had a hand in working through. He just let it go, pretended that everything was going to be fine, and accepted the inevitable that Castiel was just never going to choose him over the Jedi, and that he should just take what he could get. 

Dean had always wondered why Castiel would get these epiphanies in the middle of the night, and he always wondered why Castiel always came back. Dean thought that maybe Castiel had loved him, on some level, which set off the other man’s confusion and struggle. He never questioned any of it aloud, however, and maybe, he should have been better at connecting with his partner.

Kriffing shipload of maybes.

Dean yelped when the solder hit his finger, and he swore under his breath as he grabbed a small plaster to put on the burn. The bacta should work, and in a day, he would be good as new. Now, if only there was bacta to help him come to terms with his issues, he would be golden. 

Maybe it really never was as good as he remembered it to be. 

One of his datapads started beeping. Dean grabbed it from his pile, swearing as the tools and other datapads slide to the ground. The datapad said that the shields were working, and he had successfully increased the power output by 50% without damaging the generators. However, the scanner seem to have located a powered device on the hull, and it seemed to be sending signals to who knows where. Dean was about to leave, when another datapad started to sound off. He scattered his things further, and found it successfully. 

Upon seeing the display, he immediately turned and ran into the direction of the cockpit. Sam’s holocom codes were flashing in a call, and Dean answered it immediately.

John Winchester’s face appeared in the projector, and Dean straightened in his seat. “Dean where are you? We expected you a couple of days ago.”

“Dad! I was expecting Sam.”   
  
John shook his head. “I told him I’ll call in,” He said. John squinted, frowning. “You seem to be underestimating the urgency of the damn situation.”

Dean sat back, and urged himself not to fidget like a child being berated by a parent. “I’m a few hours away! I’m on Kattada, I just -”

“What in the galaxy are you doing on a resort?” John tsked. “Dean, when I called in for a family meeting ASAP I did not mean take your kriffing time and wait until the Empire’s taken over the planet!”

“Dad, I-”

“Get your butt over here Dean Winchester, or I swear to the Force and all the high heavens -”   
  


“Dad, Castiel needed help!” Dean blurted out. He exhaled, and looked at John’s holo. Dean’s dad was silent, pondering. Dean continued. “I’m not dallying just because I need a vacation. Castiel ran into some complications due to a mission, and we needed to get help.”

John sat back, urgency still in his voice, but he did not sound angry any longer. “What exactly is on Kattada that Larka does not have? We have a great set of doctors, psychologists, what have you -”

“It’s a Force-related problem,” Dean said. He forced himself to look at the holo. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, and he was an adult. He didn’t need to cower.

“Sam could’ve done some research -”

“Dad,” Dean huffed, getting a little annoyed now. “We found Master Aeng’l.”

John blinked. “Huh. You found Gabriel? He’s just been on Kattada all along?” John smiled, shaking his head. “Just a few hours away from Larka. That laserbrain couldn’t be bothered to assure his own friends that he is still alive.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, well, he is alive, and he’s helping Cas. It’ll just take a few more days.”

“Dean, we don’t have a few more days. The situation has worsened,” John explained. His voice had taken on a tinge of worry, and he was frowning once more.

“Worsened? How? It hasn’t even been a week!”

“It turns out we have been informed of the change in leadership when the leadership is already on her way to the kriffin’ planet. It’s absolute shavit.” John’s nose wrinkled, upper lip raised in disgust. “We’ve also been informed that her esteemed office would, and I quote, ‘like to insist to stay at the best planet in the sector’, and we are forced to give them a building for their use. They’re expected to arrive in a week or so. We need to talk about this  _ now _ .”

Dean nodded. “Let me just get Cas, and we’ll leave in a few hours. Hopefully this does not cause any further problems for him.”

John sighed, and said, “I’m sorry, son. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you found Castiel. And Gabriel to boot. Great job, Dean.”

Dean’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Thanks dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Clear skies, and may the Force be with you.” John’s face disappeared immediately. His dad was never one to wait before turning the holo off, making sure he had the last word. Dean shook his head with a small smile.

He got up, and did a quick walkaround of the ship. The hull sensors didn’t seem to notice anything untoward, but if the shield projectors and the scan he’d deliberately sent out showed an irregularity on the hull’s surface, it must be worth checking out. He went under the ship, doing a quick scan with his eye, when he found a gleaming disk-like silver object on his black, darkened ship’s frame. 

He went closer, and the device seemed to have a blinking red indicator light, with a tiny antennae. 

Dean felt like someone poured a bucket of ice down his spine.

He ran into the ship and grabbed a small lever, and pried it off the hull. He turned it over, and the device was still emitting the red light. He put it on the floor, raised his lever, and smashed it to pieces. There was a damned kriffing homing beacon on his ship, and they were  _ farkled _ .

Dean ran back to the security offices as fast as he can. 

\---

“What would you do, Master, if something that you have lived with since you were a child, something that gave you comfort and happiness, suddenly disappeared because of a mistake you made? Will you not do absolutely anything to get it back?" Castiel said. "Even if it gives me pain, even if it drowns me, I would rather live with the Force and be able to feel and use it than going without."

Gabriel blinked, and nodded proudly. "Spoken like a true Jedi," he said. "I'm impressed. Would've thought the darkness surrounding your presence would have scared the shavit out of you by now. You've never been good with handling the darkside."

Castiel froze. "What?"

"Your presence is muddied, padawan, but it isn't gone," Gabriel explained. "It's like looking through muddy water and still seeing a dark figure underneath. What in the galaxy have you been doing to yourself?"

Castiel did not answer. He did not exactly know what to say. Gabriel patted him on the head and ruffled his hair, making him frown. "Don't worry Cassie, we'll take care of that. Unless you plan on embracing the dark side, then I might just have to kill you."

"Don't joke about that," Castiel whispered.

Gabriel shook his head. "Oh Cassie, fear is still fear, even if it is fear of the dark side."

Castiel nodded wordlessly. He did not know where to start explaining. Gabriel then continued talking.

"Look, obviously our priority is to get your connection hooked up back to your senses, and we'll take care of that as we go along," Gabriel said. He gestured with his hand, and opened his palm. "Hands over mine, and close your eyes. This is gonna hurt much more than a pinprick, ‘cause I will be flooding you with the Force until the connection is pried open," Gabriel explained. "But I'll be with you every step of the way, padawan."

Castiel nodded, and hesitantly put his hands back into Gabriel's open palm. He exhaled to calm himself down, and they both closed their eyes.

Castiel felt like someone stabbed him between the ribs with a lightsaber. Castiel hissed, and gritted his teeth, the white hot pain soaking into his bones. It felt like light was touching him and burning away sludge all over his body, from the crust in his hair to the stain between his toes. Then, Castiel felt like he was slowly sinking into a dense presence, and the Force oozed like a sore.

It was dark, and Castiel couldn’t see anything but different shades of shadow. Everything felt like doubt, and anxiety, and fear. Castiel was in the midst of the darkness that enveloped him in the Force, colored the edges of his consciousness and threatened to devour him. Castiel did what any being confronted with their worst nightmare would do: he panicked. 

Castiel tried to run away. There was a pinprick of light floating and he ran towards it, but it wouldn’t come any closer. The darkness was now slowly suffocating him, and he couldn’t breathe, until something hard clipped him on the back of the head. He yelped and turned around.

Gabriel stood there, enveloped in an unnatural blue light. “You okay, Padawan?”

“What did you do that for?”

“Focus, kid,” Gabriel replied with a grin. He glanced around, and whistled. “Damn. You didn’t do clean up very well. This looks just like our room back in the temple.”

“You mean  _ your _ room, master?”

“More or less,” Gabriel said. “So? Give me the grand tour, then.”

“Grand tour? Of what? This dark, slimy expanse of Force-knows-what?” 

Gabriel sighed, and took Castiel by the arms. “Castiel, breathe. Close your eyes, and center your breathing.”

Castiel steadied, then closed his eyes. A part of him relaxed, if only just a little. 

The darkness eased up. He breathed in, and breathed out, and closed his eyes. The darkness seemed to breathe with him. Castiel spread out his senses, and slowly calmed himself, letting him feel the tip of his fingers, the pressure on his back, and the clothes touching his skin. He emptied his mind, and felt the darkness respond by retreating.

“Just as I thought,” Gabriel murmured. He pushed Castiel down gently, and Castiel sat. “Castiel, what do you sense?”

“Darkness. Anxiety. Doubt. Sadness,” he responded. Castiel shifted in his position uncomfortably. “I don’t like it.”

“Shhh, padawan,” Gabriel whispered. Castiel felt him crouch beside him, breath in his ear. “Don’t be afraid of it. You don’t have to embrace the dark side, Castiel. You don’t have to use it, or do anything with it. But you have to let it pass.”

“No, I can’t have it here,” Castiel said. “ _ There is no emotion, there is peace.” _

“If you don’t let yourself feel and process your emotions, you cannot have true peace. You can’t just shove everything away into the Force. That is not how it works. That’s not how anything works," Gabriel explained. "The Force is not a cure-all. It responds to you and your feelings. Can’t you feel where the presence of darkness is coming from?”

Castiel hesitantly touched the darkness, almost drawing back at the heavy, empty feeling. Something called to him, told him to bask in its glory. He knew that there was power held within the cold darkness, but Castiel felt it burn away when Gabriel guided him to touch it with light. Castiel sent a pulse of gratefulness to Gabriel, who responded by squeezing his hand. As the call to the dark side quite down, Castiel could feel the darkness’s movement with the ebb and flow of his breath. When Castiel’s anxiety spiked, the darkness climbed as well, the heaviness increasing. When he calmed down, it retreated slowly, just within the periphery of his senses.

That was when Castiel realized that the darkness was him. It was coming from him, from his thoughts, feelings, everything that he released in the Force being echoed back to him. The Force had responded in kind to his troubled soul, and mirrored what he was pushing away. 

With a deep breath and grim determination, he let his feelings flow back in. Each feeling had brought back the accompanying memories, things he’d tried to push away, things he’d never truly taken the time to deal with.. 

Castiel had woken up in the middle of the night, the nightmarish vision still fresh in his memory. He was not sure if it was indeed a vision, or if it was simply something cruel from his imagination. It felt real as he held Dean in his arms, his lover’s mouth gaping wordlessly as he tried to speak. Castiel’s hands just held him close, with no medpack or bacta in sight, and he couldn’t even do any first aid to feel useful as there was no blood to stop. His wound was perfectly cauterized by the blaster shot, and Dean was caught twice in the chest, once in the stomach. 

He watched Dean die in his arms, in the middle of the ruins of Larka, and there was nothing he could do. 

When he woke up, he wanted to hurl, but shook it off by shunting the  _ fear _ into the Force. He immediately grabbed his tunic, needing to leave. If he wasn’t here, wasn’t with Dean, maybe it won’t happen. Or maybe he would not go mad from all these visions, from all this fear that choked him. He didn’t want to lose Dean, and this was what they talked about when they lectured about attachment. He would do  _ anything _ to keep Dean safe, and the call of the dark side suddenly felt very strong and very close. 

Castiel shuddered, and all he could tell Dean, who had awoken beside him, that he could not do this anymore. Castiel had started spouting the platitudes he knew from the Jedi code, frantically finding a way to convince himself to let it go. He just needed to leave, to prevent everything from happening, or  _ something _ . Panic bubbled beneath his skin, bursting into anxiety as it popped. Dean had immediately backed down, but the panic didn’t abate, it had merely quieted and melted into quiet, heavy anxiety, and the details of the nightmare faded into the night as he had lain sleepless beside Dean.

Castiel watched the memory fade, leaving behind traces of anxiety and fear. He knew that the horrifying thing he had experienced in sleep was merely a nightmare, as the specifics of the dream had slowly disappeared, whereas a vision would have not. If they had only talked through his fears, if he had opened up to Dean, or if Dean had asked, maybe he didn’t have to deal with it alone. 

"Cassie, you didn't have to go through your doubts alone," Gabriel said, echoing his thoughts. "Padawan, I hadn't left the order yet at this time, judging from your padawan haircut. Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I was afraid," Castiel admitted. "I fell in love, but it wasn't allowed."

Gabriel shook his head. "You're hardly the first and the last for this to happen to. You should have spoken up. You know I wouldn't have judged you."

"I know, Master."

"You've done enough judging yourself," Gabriel said, smirking.

Castiel barked a laugh. "Thanks, master," he said. "For what it's worth, I knew I should have talked to you. I just didn't know how."

Castiel then found himself standing in Gabriel’s old room in the Temple. 

Gabriel had been stuffing civilian clothes into a bag when Castiel found him. “Master, what are you doing?”

“Packing, as you can see,” Gabriel said. He grabbed a datapad and a comlink, and tossed it into his pack as well. “I bet this is how civilians feel when they get fired. Gotta take all personal effects - don’t want all my porn burned in the incinerator, so I’m bringing them along.”

“Master, I-” 

Gabriel snorted. “Kid, I ain’t your master anymore, not since you’ve aced the Jedi trials and became a knight.”

“Gabriel! Please, please stop. Talk to me, please.”

“About what?”

Castiel huffed, following his master go all over the small quarters, pulling various knick knacks and tossing them on the bed. “About why you’re leaving. I don’t understand what is happening.”

“Oh Cassie, you are still so young and naive. Don’t worry, I’m sure the Force will give you the wisdom you need someday,” Gabriel said in a teasing tone and a small grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Castiel sighed. “Gabriel, talk to me. I’m not just your former padawan, I’m your friend."

"Castiel, mark my words. Our complacency, our refusal to move against the darkness covering our senses will be the downfall of the Jedi," Gabriel said, pausing in his movements. "Our actions, our participation in this war will simply contribute to the atrocities that will arise, which will only add to the dark side clouding the future. It will never stop." 

"Whatever happened to the  _ here and now _ , Gabriel?" Castiel demanded. "We need you in the here and now!"

Gabriel sighed, and continued his packing. "Balance, Castiel. Balance is important. Right now, the Jedi are contributing to the lack of balance in the galaxy towards the dark side. I will not be complicit to whatever shavit we're going to cause." He stopped, and looked at Castiel. "Look, why don't you come with me? We can stay at Larka, I know you're with Dean, maybe you can finally have the balls to-"

"Master, we need you here to help us, there are people  _ dying _ in the streets," Castiel interrupted. His heart pounded. He never told Gabriel about Dean and him, and the uncertainty left fear and anxiety in its wake. But that was overtaken by fear and sadness over losing a treasured friend. Gabriel was the only person he trusted to talk to about his doubts and feelings in the order, and he hadn't done it enough. He had not even opened up about Dean yet. "Please."

Gabriel had grabbed his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm sorry Castiel."

The memory faded with a wake of sadness and pain. Gabriel put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "For what it's worth, I  _ am _ sorry for leaving you behind. I knew you counted on me."

"Master, you did it for you. I understand," Castiel said. 

"Least I could have done was to contact you, but I thought it was better that way, to simply start over and avoid the temptation to go back," Gabriel said. "And for that I truly apologize."

Castiel exhaled. "You're here now."

Gabriel shook his head, and smiled. "You have always been a very forgiving person, padawan."

The scene had changed, and they were in a jungle, filled with bright yellow and blue vegetation. A pool of sweat gathered in Castiel's collar, and Castiel wiped his forehead with a damp sleeve. The rain had been light but steady, and everyone in their small band was soaked from their trek. The clone trooper in front of them had gestured forward to the edge of a cliff overlooking a settlement swarming with droids. Castiel gestured, and he was handed a pair of macro binoculars. 

“You’d think the droids would be a little less eager about being in this damp, humid environment. Can’t imagine the rust oil baths would have to deal with at the end of the day.”

Castiel turned to look at his companion. She leaned against a tree, light brown tunic visibly wet from the rain. Her red hair was tightly braided and curled at her nape, but stray strands plastered themselves against her face. Castiel “I don’t think they care, Anna. They have enough resources to make as many mechanical soldiers as they wished.” He raised his binoculars and surveyed the area. "Estimate around more than ten or so droids in the facility," Castiel said. He held out a hand, and reached out with his senses. "Make that 14, exactly."

"What's our play here then?"

"Divide and conquer. One creates a diversion, the other rescues the senator's daughter." Castiel said.

Anna shrugged. "Sounds easy enough. I'll do distraction. You get the kid."

"Right then. Half the battalion with you, half with me, we go in, rescue the child, and meet at the rendezvous in 2 hours whether or not the child is with us."

"Okay. I'll see you in a bit," Anna said, with a smile. She gestured at a few men to follow her, and they turned back into the forest. Castiel gathered his own men, and moved forward into the camp. 

The whole scene turned dark, and then Castiel opened his eyes, screaming and trying to catch his breath. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about! The Jedi may be working together but we also know the importance of confidentiality and the need-to-know nature of some operations! I do not know everything that's going to happen!"

Beside him, Anna groaned, head lolling to her shoulder. "Castiel, don't tell 'em nothing," she mumbled. Her head was encased in what appeared to be a black sack with markings stitched into the fabric. Castiel reached out with his senses, and felt Anna's fear sharp on his tongue. He tried to soothe his friend, and felt Anna's presence latched on to him brightness. There was a cold, burning darkness emanating from the mask, and Castiel clung tightly to the light. 

"Maybe this would change things."

The dark jedi in front of him waved his hand, and Anna started screaming. She screeched, legs kicking from underneath, fingers clutching at the wooden chair she was tied to. Her fingertips bled as she scratched into the wood in agony. 

Something was eating at Castiel’s senses, just under his skin. Worms wriggled, opening wounds and flesh, and they chewed at his bones. His senses felt like it was bleeding, and his head felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing a freezing shard of ice, and Castiel screamed. 

He slammed his mental shields closed, and realized that what he felt wasn’t happening to him at all. It was coming from  _ Anna _ . Castiel watched helplessly as Anna screeched and shrieked, each succeeding shout sounding less and less human. Every time he tried to reach with his presence to soothe Anna the pain enveloped him and he had to draw back.

“Tell me which world would be the next Republic target, so I can end your friend’s suffering.”

“I’m telling you I don’t know!”

The memory abruptly cut off, and Castiel tried to get his breathing under control. He looked up at Gabriel, who was deathly pale and clutched Castiel’s hand tightly.

“C-Castiel, you…  _ this happened to you _ ?”

“Yes, but I came out in one piece compared to Anna-”

Gabriel gave Castiel one of the tightest hugs he had ever had in his life. “Force, Cassie, I can’t even fathom…”

“I know, Master,” Castiel said. He sniffed, and squinted his eyes twice. “But I’m okay, and-”

“No! Padawan, you are  _ not _ okay!” Gabriel said, pulling back from the embrace and looked at Castiel. “Padawan, you went through a very traumatic ordeal, and I know the council probably did shavit to help those affected by the war! You are all probably expected to deal with it and let the Force flow through you and, hell, Castiel, that lack of help is no better than the sith telling you to embrace the dark side. I don’t know how you have remained ingrained in the light for this long!”

“Mostly drugs, ignoring the pain and the darkness.”

Gabriel huffed in mirthless laughter. “Of course, and your wonderful deadpan sense of humor.”

Castiel breathed slowly, and Uriel appeared before him, saber drawn. 

His friend’s green shaft of light had hissed in the rain. Castiel’s cloak had flown around him, and he had his hood pulled off. He had ignored the strong rain in his face. “Uriel, please! You don’t have to do this!”

“Anna was just collateral, Castiel! The Jedi doesn’t care about us as long as we do what is asked of us, our kriffing duty,” Uriel said. He gestured at the entire camp from the overhang. “All I have to do is to kill them Castiel, kill them all. Then it will stop, and Anna will be at peace.”

The Force pulsed in warning. Castiel reached out and felt the dark side, felt the anguish emanating from Uriel. He sought to calm it down with his light, but it hissed upon Castiel’s touch, not unlike the water droplets on their lightsaber blades.

“Anna  _ is _ at peace! There is no death, there is only the Force, and you know this,” Castiel said. He held out his hand, beckoning to Uriel. “Please, come back to the light. You don’t have to slaughter these people.” Castiel felt cold, and it wasn’t the rain or the wind. He drew his robe around him, but it did not help.

“I loved her Castiel, I truly did. And now she’s gone,” Uriel said. He closed his eyes. “This is the only thing that would set it right.”

“Anna would not want this, Uriel,” Castiel said. His hand twitched, ready to draw his saber from his sleeve. “Please, Uriel. You weren’t the only friend she had. I’m in pain, too.”

Uriel’s eyes opened, and his eyes flashed a sickly yellow. Castiel stepped back in shock. “I was more than her friend, Castiel,” Uriel said. “She was more to me than that. And what do you know? You betrayed her in the battlefield. You weren’t the one who suffered torture. You could have given up the plans to save her.” 

“I didn’t know  _ anything _ Uriel! They asked something of me that I could not provide!”

“You are a traitor to Anna,” Uriel said. He walked forward, and brandished his saber. “And after I kill you, I will murder everyone in that camp until I find that dark jedi who murdered her. And then we’ll be at peace.” The Force screamed, and when Castiel reached out in confusion, he felt it. Uriel wasn’t merely surrounded by the dark side. He was pulling from it, and basking in its power.

“You are consumed by the dark side, Uriel,” Castiel said. His saber slid down to his palm, and it hissed as water droplets hit the blade when he turned it on. “And I cannot let this stand.” Uriel had lunged at him, and Castiel had his blade up to parry. 

Gabriel appeared before Castiel, and the memory disappeared into the darkness. “You are  _ not  _ him, Castiel. You are not Uriel.”

“But master, I am willing to do that and more  _ just to save Dean _ . How am I any less at risk?” 

“Padawan, you will learn when to let go,” Gabriel said. “Your judgment is sound. You know when something is worth fighting for, and when to stop. Cassie, Uriel never understood that. You have to have more faith in yourself.”

“Master, I don’t want to be like him,” Castiel said. “I don’t know how I cannot.”

“Trust in the Force. Trust in yourself. If the time comes, I know you know what you need to do,” Gabriel said. “And trust your boyfriend. He can take care of himself.”

One of the cities in Generis appeared around them. Castiel had been making his way to the local embassy to request for an audience with their president, when he saw a confederate envoy from far away. 

He quickly gestured to the troops behind him, and everybody quickly drew back into the shadows of the buildings, but it was too late. A couple of destroyer droids rolled towards them, and quickly unfolded from their shell, and started shooting. The clones behind Castiel quickly sprang into action and started shooting back. Castiel could see an armored assault tank hover towards them, and Castiel quickly ran towards it and sliced open the top hatch, and threw his hand out to crumple the processor of the droid inside. He then sliced into where he knew the pilot was into the front hatch, and with a loud groan, the AAT crashed onto the stone path. 

"Gen-ral No-ak we… under attack need… up!" The com-link crackled, and then there was static. The separatists had blocked all communications. 

Castiel immediately seeked out Commander Bree in the Force, and ran back in his direction. And with him in sight, Castiel watched as Bree raised his blaster rifle, and shot Castiel. 

Castiel didn't even have time to put his saber up. Castiel crumpled to the ground, but not before he heard a sizzle and a loud pop. His vision was temporarily clouded in red. His arm burned, and the energy shield protector seemed to be melting and so he quickly shucked it off. 

He knew his eyes did not deceive him. His clone commander, Bree, just attempted to kill him, and something told him that if he appeared again in front of any of the clones he would be shot to death. 

And so Castiel remained crumpled in his position, and pretended to be dead. He made sure the Force kept the illusion, even as he lay there breathing. His mind raced. He did not know what was going on. Is he the only one this has happened to? What of the other Jedi? Castiel needed to warn everyone of this betrayal. Something was wrong, but Castiel could not even leave his position. 

The troopers eventually defeated the droids, and they moved out. Castiel was eventually able to leave, and he ran quickly into a hangar and the communications array found inside. He quickly commed the Jedi council on a secure line, but it went unanswered. He searched through the channels and found a beacon, calling all Jedi back to the temple. Castiel was confused, and he was ready to temporarily borrow a shuttle when the beacon's message changed. 

It said to stay away from the temple. Everyone was dead, and it was dangerous. Castiel dropped into the communication's operator's seat in disbelief. 

He did not understand what was happening, and so he reached deeply into the Force. 

There was a terrifying dark emptiness at first, then Castiel was assaulted by screams of terror. And the screams did not stop. Castiel crumpled to the ground in agony, and he held his hands to his ears, even though it couldn't help. Castiel quickly pulled his shields up, and he knew without a doubt that the second beacon was right. 

Everyone was dead, and Castiel was alone.

Castiel turned to his Master. "I stole a shuttle and ended up at Garqi. Nothing made sense, but I lay low any way, hoping to find answers. A holonet announcement finally came through celebrating the death of the Jedi, and there was nowhere to turn. I had no credits, no way off the planet, no way to contact anyone," Castiel said. "I should have just died."

Gabriel shook his head. "Don't say that padawan, you deserved to live."

"But why me, Gabriel? Why not all the other Jedi?" Castiel said. "I should have perished like everyone else. Why am I still  _ here?" _

Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know padawan, but you're here now. And you're alive, and we cannot waste that," Gabriel said. "We can only honor those who died by doing our best."

For the first time in years, he let himself cry.

Castiel opened his eyes, his tears soaking Gabriel’s shirt. He realized that he was back in the present, clutching his master like a youngling, while Gabriel ran fingers through his hair soothingly and murmured that everything was going to be alright. 

“I’m here for you, padawan,” Gabriel whispered. "We can take steps towards your healing. You can let go now.” He waved at Castiel. “Your presence isn’t surrounded by the darkness any longer. I can feel it clearly again.”

“The darkness is fading,” Castiel blinked, drawing back from Gabriel embrace, astonished. “I can’t… I can’t touch it anymore. It doesn’t feel suffocating. And,” Castiel exhaled in relief as he felt the Force sing back in joy as he touched it. “The Force, I can feel it again. That murky water you said, it’s like the mud has settled. Master, I - it’s clear, refreshing...”

"It's a miracle," Gabriel said, trying to add levity to the situation. "Just don't forget to do some clean-up. And talk about your experiences, padawan. You have to let it all out."

"Yes, master," Castiel said. He squeezed his master's hand. "Thank you so much." 

"You're welcome," Gabriel replied. He grabbed a datapad on top of one of the couches, and swore loudly.

"What is it?" Castiel asked absently. He stood up, looking for some water or juice left by the droid. They had been sitting for hours, and he had been through plenty. Castiel was parched, and he was distracted, but he quickly snapped to attention when Gabriel spoke.

"Well, I don't know what you and your boyfriend did, but there seems to be a Star Destroyer in orbit. We probably should do something about that."


	14. Chapter 14

Dean arrived in front of the visitor lounge where he left Castiel. He crouched, pausing to catch his breath. He then looked up, and saw Samman'dryiel being supported by a grinning Balthazar. 

"What did you do?" Dean asked, frowning. Samman’dryiel’s head lolled back, and the boy seemed to be sleeping soundly.

“I may have given him something, a nice drink, and forgot to tell him how much alcohol was in it,” Balthazar explained, scratching his head.

Dean straightened. “You got him drunk?”

“Accidentally!” Balthazar said. “The drinks didn’t have that much alcohol, but he had a lot.”

“And you didn’t think to stop him? He’s just a child!”

“One, he’s a  _ teenager _ , getting drunk is practically a rite of passage. Two, I rarely get affected by that drink. Completely forgot that it even  _ had _ alcohol,” Balthazar explained. “Look, I’m sure he’ll be fine when he wakes up. Let him just sleep it off.”

Before Dean was even able to respond, the doors slid open, and Gabriel walked out, gesturing to Balthazar. Balthazar passed Samman’dryiel to Castiel, who accepted the kid with a grunt. “What…?”   
  
“Balthazar got him drunk,” Dean said. “You okay?”   
  


“I feel better,” Castiel answered. “I can feel the Force again, Dean!"

“Good,” Dean said, smiling back at Castiel's enthusiastic news. He raised his voice to address the whole group. “We have a problem.”

“I’d say,” Gabriel said, gesturing to the group to follow him. “There’s a Star Destroyer in orbit, asking for permission to send a shuttle in.  _ Asking _ might even be too generous a word.”

“Shavit,” Dean muttered. “I was boosting my shields when the scanner found something on the hull. A homing beacon.”

“Well, Sith,” Balthazar swore, “Plan of action, boss?” He said, turning to Gabriel.

They entered Gabriel’s office, and Gabriel went to his desk immediately. He handed Balthazar a datapad and a stylus. “Sign here.”

Balthazar signed without question, then handed the datapad back to Gabriel. “What did I just agree to?”

“Says that a senior officer, aka me, may pass his authority to the next in command when needed upon his discretion,” Gabriel explained. He grabbed a small bag and tossed a few datapads, blasters, and Dean was sure he saw a thermal detonator and a few mines as well. Gabriel clipped a lightsaber to his belt.

“What are you saying?” Balthazar asked, tone raised in uncertainty. “Are you leaving?”

“I’m coming back, don’t worry,” Gabriel said. He hefted the bag onto one shoulder. “I just need to see these kids through. Make sure they don’t die, or accidentally kill everyone around them.”

“Hey, I haven’t done anything that bad since I was a teenager,” Dean protested.

Gabriel snorted. “We should go. Balthazar?”

“Yeah?”

“Stall them.”

Balthazar nodded, expression serious. “I’ll make sure you can at least take off.”

Castiel had tipped Samman’dryiel onto the couch in Gabriel’s office, and he tried to shake the kid awake to no avail. “I think I’ll feel better if we left him here,” Castiel said. 

“Might be safer here than at Larka at the moment,” Dean agreed. “And we need all people alert onboard if we’re going against a Star Destroyer.”

Castiel must have roused Samman’dryiel through the Force, because the kid opened his eyes blearily at Castiel with a grunt. “Samm, we’re going to leave you in Balthazar’s care.”

“He got me drunk!” Samman’dryiel protested, his words slurring. “I’m drunk! And I need to-” Dean immediately kicked a trash bin towards Samman’dryiel, and the kid started vomiting just in time. 

“I did  _ not _ mean to get him drunk!” Balthazar insisted.

“That doesn’t matter,” Castiel said. He turned back to Samman’dryiel. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to let anything bad happen to you. Gabriel vouches for him, right, Master?”

“Absolutely.”

“See?” Castiel went directly in front of the teen, who looked up from his position blearily. “You need to recuperate here. There is a situation at Larka, and while I have no doubt that you can help, we will need to leave you here for your safety at the moment.”

Samman’dryiel seemed like he was going to protest, but before he could say anything, he vomited into the bin again. “Might be for the best,” he said.

Castiel gave him a nod, and Dean tapped him on the shoulder as a goodbye. Gabriel patted Samman’dryiel on the head, and led them to the lift. “Straight to the Impala, then we’ll wait for Balthazar’s signal for take off.”

“What will the signal be?” Castiel asked.

“We’ll know it when it happens,” Gabriel answered.

“We’re going to die,” Dean said with a huff. The two jedi turned to him with scowls on their faces. “What? I’m kidding. I wouldn’t have left the kid there if I didn’t at least trust the guy.”

Gabriel looked at his datapad. “Balthazar had approved their request to dock. Apparently the ship’s commander will be on board. Very hands on, isn’t he?”

“Can’t tell if it’s to our advantage or not,” Dean said.

“Might be,” Gabriel responded. “If he micromanages like this I bet his officers are not very good at thinking for themselves, so we might get past the destroyer despite his standing orders. Who is this man, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Dean said. “I don’t even know where or when this homing beacon got attached.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, his face pale. “Garqi. I knew it was suspicious how easily we escaped. The tractor beam.”

“That must be why they held onto us. It was never about the fighters, they held us to attach the homing beacon,” Dean realized. “I was so focused on getting us out of the beam and did not notice anything else.”

“It’s done now,” Gabriel cut in, before Dean could even think about beating himself up with guilt. The lift slid open, but instead of finding themselves at the level where the beach was, they were now on the roof. There was an airspeeder right before them, and the three jogged towards it. 

“Now, it’s made for two people, so it will be a tight squeeze.” Gabriel said, jumping into the driver’s seat. 

Dean climbed into the passenger seat, and Castiel climbed in after him. “This isn’t working,” Dean hissed, and Castiel climbed over his lap. “A little better.”

“Best we can do,” Castiel said. 

Gabriel nodded. “Hold on to your seatmate then. It’s time to go.”

The speeder slowly ascended, and Dean watched a shuttle fly in from the horizon in front of them. Even from afar, the triangular ship was obviously an Imperial shuttle. “That’s them.” Dean said, pointing at the shuttle in the distance.

It was a short ride from the rooftop of the security offices and down in the hangar where the Impala was kept. Gabriel gestured at a security officer to bring the speeder back to the rooftop, and the officer saluted and left them alone. 

Gabriel turned to look at the ship. “Well. Didn’t know this damn ship is still spaceworthy.”

“Hey it’s not  _ that _ old!” Dean said. He lowered the boarding ramp. “Don’t listen to them baby, they’re just jealous of you.”

“Love the paint job,” Gabriel said. “Nice camouflage. Surprise that you haven’t crashed into another ship yet.”

“They’re called  _ sensors _ , Gabriel, which most ships use to detect other ships.” Dean said as he jogged up into the  _ Impala _ . “Also, I’m driving. You really think I’d crash my baby into other ships?”

“Remember kid, I am friends with your father. I’ve heard stories.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and sat in the pilot’s seat. “Preparing for take off.” He flicked a few switches to get the ship ready, while Castiel, who sat beside him, prepared the shields and started calculating possible routes to Larka. Gabriel stood behind them. “Seems like you’re all in control here. Guns?”

“Take the bottom hatch. Gun on top’s already hooked up to the system here,” Dean said. Gabriel gave him a nod, and ran for the guns.

In the distance, Dean could see the Imperial shuttle landing on an island just beyond them. He was certain that it was Balthazar who stood near the bridge with a couple of guards as he waited for the commander to descend. 

Dean vaguely recognized the admiral’s uniform. “Is that…?”

“It’s the base commander from Garqi, Dean,” Castiel said. “Very persistent, isn’t he?”

“Appears to be,” Dean agreed. “Can’t believe he followed us all the way  _ here _ . I wonder how long he’s been after us.”

“Followed us everywhere, it seems like,” Castiel said. He turned to Dean with a small frown. “Look, Dean, I just want to say I’m sorry. If we didn’t take long here on Kattada, hell, if we didn’t have to go through the Imperial Garrison -”

“Cas, stop.” Dean put a hand on top of Castiel’s. “What’s done is done. We'll talk about it when all of this is over, I promise." Dean gave him a small smile.

Castiel nodded. In the distance, Balthazar escorted the commander towards the security offices, and Dean watched as the security head actually look at the Impala directly.

"That's the signal," Dean whispered to himself. He turned to Castiel. "Cas, that's the signal!"

"Then let's go!"

Dean pulled on a lever, and the engines eased the ship up into the atmosphere slowly, hovering above the hangar. Dean saw the commander turn at the sound of the , point at the Impala, and push a stormtrooper towards the shuttle as he ran back as well. The stormtroopers started shooting at Balthazar, who had his own blaster out and was shooting back as he ran out of sight and into one of the underwater tunnels. 

"Come on baby," Dean said, and pushed the ship to hurry past the atmosphere. He could see the Star Destroyer loom in the distance, a few fighters flew towards them in formation. "Shavit. Here we go!" Dean yelled into the comm, and Gabriel yelled back an affirmative. 

Beside Dean, Castiel concentrated on calculating their route. "Nav's currently doing its calculations. I'd say we need to survive for a few minutes," Castiel said. He pulled the gun's controls to him. "Time to test your rigged invention, Dean."

"That  _ should _ work now," Dean said. 

Castiel gave a nod, and pressed a button to fire at an incoming fighter. 

Nothing happened. 

Dean swore. "I fixed that! I fixed it, I swear!" 

Castiel huffed, and got up to run in the direction of the gunnery. Dean slammed a fist into his rigged console. "Baby, really? I've always taken such good care of you!" Dean groaned, and checked the navicomputer's display near him. It was still busy calculating. "You have become prissy in your age you know! If you wanted KAZ on board you should have just said!" 

\---

Castiel shook his head, grinning at the faint sounds of Dean scolding his ship behind him. He climbed up the gunnery ladder. “Mind if I joined you, Master?” He called out as he got into his seat.

“I’m sure I could use some of your help Cassie,” Gabriel replied. “Ready?”

“Just like old times,” Castiel said, and gripped his controls tight. There was a sense of quiet excitement looping between Gabriel and Castiel's bond which made Castiel smile. It had been a while since he felt the bond come to life between him and his master, and Castiel smiled at the nostalgia it accompanied. He shored up some mental shields, just to make sure no errant, distracting thought slips through. 

“Coming in hot!” Dean yelled from the comms, and Castiel responded an affirmative. He quickly turned the gun on to the left, following a fighter that overshot to follow them around. A few bursts from his gun did it as it came around on a loop. Castiel swung around to hit a couple more fighters, and turned when he heard a woop from the other gun.

“Missed the action, Gabriel?” Dean quipped before Castiel could say something.

“More than you can imagine,” Gabriel responded. Castiel could hear the guns screaming from Gabriel’s side as Castiel got a few more shots off himself. The ship suddenly spun in a corkscrew, and Castiel shut his eyes against the vomit-inducing scenery. He kept his senses about him in the Force, and knew that the few shots he released hit a couple of fighters.

The ship shuddered, and Castiel got thrown into the controls. "Missiles?"

“Yeah, took care of ‘em, exploded into each other,” Dean responded. “Please make sure they don’t hit us. Shields are still pretty strong after my tweaking, but let’s not test how strong they are anytime soon. Shavit!” There was a surge of alarm from Dean's direction, and Castiel blinked in surprise when he felt such. He wasn't aware that he was blocking out so much because of his reluctance to touch the Force. Dean's curse accompanied a quick left when shafts of green light streaked by, almost clipping the ship. “They are  _ not _ messing around this time.”

“How long ‘til hyperspace?” Castiel asked, getting a few more shots in. 

“A few minutes,” Dean said. “Route between Kattada and Larka’s a little tricky. There’s an asteroid field nearby, and I don’t want to die.”

“No one does kid,” Gabriel said. “If you can, get us close to the star destroyer as much as possible.”

“What for?”

“Just trust me, Dean.”

“We can’t stick onto the hull and wait ‘til they drop garbage Gabriel, the Impala’s  _ black _ we’d stick out like a sore thumb on those grey hulls,” Dean said. Irritation and slight fear was broadcasted from Dean's direction, and behind him, Gabriel was radiating some kind of smugness. 

Gabriel grunted, and Castiel could hear a couple of TIE fighters explode from the sound fields in the gunwell. “They won’t shoot their own ship. Stick close to the destroyer so they don’t get a good shot of you. Just avoid the tractor beam.”

“Fine!” Dean said, and the ship turned and lurched to the right, and suddenly flew straight at the star destroyer. “If we die, I will kill you Gabriel!”

“How will you kill him if we’re dead…?” Castiel said loudly to himself, frowning. A quick burst of fire from his gun accurately dispatched two incoming fighters, despite the wild flying Dean was doing to get the TIEs off their tail.

“‘There is no death, there is only the Force,’ and I am going to kill him!” Dean shouted from the comms, and the speaker shrieked in feedback.

Castiel watched other TIEs fly past as their ship flew at top speed towards the other fighters. Dean suddenly made a quick loop backwards as they approached the destroyer, and Castiel aimed to hit some of the turbolasers as Dean skirted the guns. He concentrated, exploiting a miniscule hole he sensed in the shields of the destroyer and yanked it open with the Force, and sent a volley of fire that destroyed the lasers. He let the shields close once more, and he let out a triumphant exhale. Nudging a torpedo was nothing compared to forcing a ship's shields open.

It felt amazing to use the Force once again, and not feel anything dark looming in his senses. 

The Impala swooped down near the larger ship, skirting it’s frame with the fighters behind them. Gabriel was right, they were only able to send a few at a time to make sure they don’t damage their own ships. Castiel let out a few more shots, and felt the Force surge behind him. Castiel watched a couple of fighters fly past him unnaturally, solar arrays first straight into the destroyer before him. The fighters exploded upon contact with the shields, and Castiel turned and blinked at Gabriel, who winked at him as the man shifted in his seat. Skies, he forgot how strong his master was.

In the distance, Castiel watched a familiar shuttle fly towards them, its wings extended in three directions. “Dean, their commander’s coming in. We should get out of here before the man infects them with his competency,” Castiel yelled into the comms.

“And just in time!” Dean shouted. Stars streaked past them, and once Castiel saw the blue lines coalesce into blue waves of hyperspace travel, he knew they were safe. 

“Great job kid!” Gabriel said, and Castiel turned to see him slip down the ladder back into the ship.

Castiel followed, and they found Dean in the pilot’s chair, breathing hard with the adrenaline rush that comes from battle. “You okay?”

Dean let out a woop, and exhaled loudly. “Yes! I’m fine. Have to admit, I’d rather be on the ground shooting people instead of being involved in space dogfights.”

“But you’re such a good pilot Dean-o,” Gabriel said, clapping him on the back. 

  
“Ground doesn’t risk explosions and dying in the vacuum of space,” Dean said flatly. He patted his console. “I still love you Baby, even though you let me down today. What is up with that rig?” Dean stood up, and slipped past Castiel and Gabriel towards the engineering bay, Castiel assumed.

“What’s with him?” Gabriel asked.

Castiel shrugged, trying to hide a grin. “He’s been trying to rig the guns to controls in the cockpit, but it hasn’t worked so far,” he said. “He’s claimed it worked in the past, but I have yet to see it actually be successful.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Maybe the ship knows that you’d prefer to be at the actual guns,” Gabriel said.

“Possibly,” Castiel remarked. He gestured to his master, and both made their way to the lounge. He could use some food to eat; Castiel did not have a chance to eat anything when they were at Kattada. He was too busy worrying about his state, and then, too busy fixing it. 

Gabriel grabbed his bag from the floor of the cockpit on the way out, and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. "Sullustan gin. Does this ship have juice or something fizzy?"

"I remembered seeing muja juice," Castiel said, and a blast of cold air met him when he opened the conservator in the galley. 

"Good enough," Gabriel said. Castiel tossed him a couple of glasses, and Gabriel smoothly caught them in the air. "Want some?"

"Ah, no. I'll be happy with the muja juice." 

"Suit yourself then," Gabriel said, but Castiel could feel the approval seep from his presence. 

There was a comfortable silence as they sat on the couch, drinking, until Gabriel spoke up. "So, padawan. Any plans when we've taken care of these?"

"I haven't thought about it," Castiel said honestly. "I have been too busy trying to run away from my problems and my past that the future always seemed so far away." 

"Poetic," Gabriel said. He looked straight at his padawan, and Castiel shifted at the attention. "Castiel, how are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

Gabriel swirled his drink around, and poured a bit more gin into his glass. "You went through a doozy during our shared visions in the Force. I just wanted to check in."

"I feel better master, truly," Castiel said, smiling. He sighed happily, and leaned back in his chair. "I admit, I am still… hesitant about… everything, in general, but just the absence of darkness makes me feel lighter, somehow.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Gabriel said. He finished his glass, and mixed more of his juice-gin cocktail, then leaned back. “Remember that I am here for you, here  _ now _ , padawan.”

“I will not forget, Master,” Castiel said gratefully. “I will not hesitate to talk to you when something troubles me.” Gabriel smiled, and patted Castiel’s hand.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to get the guns rigged at this rate, so I’ll just take care of it when KAZ is already onboard.” Castiel looked up, and saw Dean in the doorway. “Is that Sullustan gin?”

“Go knock yourself out,” Gabriel said, gesturing at the bottle with his glass. He nodded at Dean when the man pointed questioningly at the bottle of alcohol. “So, how are your folks?”

“My old man’s okay, still his old crotchety self. Worried about this new governor coming in,” Dean said. Castiel grimaced at the anxiety that Dean broadcasted unknowingly into the Force. “There’s been a change in the sector’s management ever since Dad strong armed him into leaving us alone, and the Empire obviously didn’t like how one little planet is headstrong against their leadership. There’s gonna be a family meeting on what to do next. Add to that this admiral who’s still after us, well, we're just flying into a black hole ain't we,” Dean said, gulping a glass filled with clear liquid straight. “How are you?” He asked Gabriel, and poured himself some more of the gin, this time mixing it with some of the pink muja juice. He tipped his head at Castiel. “How is he?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Castiel said flatly. Dean squeezed in beside him, and nudged him with a shoulder.

“I know you are babe, but you rarely answer me directly,” Dean teased, but Castiel knew there was a kernel of truth in it. Whenever Dean asked after him, rare as it was, he never did answer the way he wanted to. There was a sense of quiet hesitation from Dean, and Castiel did not like it.

Time to change that. 

Also,  _ babe? _

“I’m truly fine  _ now _ ,” Castiel said. He felt his cheeks and ears warm up, and he ducked to hide his blush. “It was difficult to go through it. I needed to sort through memories, and deal with the emotions that accompanied them.”

“Oh,” Dean said, eyes widening slightly. “That’s good then, that you ah, took care of that.” Dean coughed into his drink. “If you need to talk to me, or something…”

“I’d take you up on that offer someday Dean, thank you,” Castiel said. He hid a smile behind his glass at Dean’s surprise and awkwardness. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gabriel grinning.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He tossed back the rest of his drink. "Thank you for-"

The whole ship suddenly started beeping in a pattern, and Dean groaned. "Always. Every single time." He turned to Castiel. "Would you excuse me, please?"

Castiel gave Dean a nod. He looked at his glass, still smiling to himself.

“That’s better, isn’t it, padawan?” Gabriel said. Castiel turned to see his master’s smug grin, and Gabriel winked. 

Castiel agreed, “You’re right master, it is.”

\---

Ever since Dean first met Castiel, even when they were dating, Dean had always hoped that Castiel would be comfortable enough to talk to him. Dean had never been the sort of person to ask someone to spill their heart out, but he had always been willing to give a listening ear, and if called for, some advice.

Dean slammed his head onto the console, and murmured into the buttons. “Why now, Sam? You damn cockblock." He really didn’t expect Castiel to actually open up to him, in any way. He’d also not been prepared to see such stark and open honesty in Cas’ eyes. It was amazing and daunting at the same time. 

Dean realized that it was the first time he felt like Castiel truly trusted him fully, and it was exhilarating. 

Dean took a deep breath, and answered the holocom. He did not expect a certain redhead to appear in the projected holo, however. 

"Dean!" 

"Charlie?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "Does Sam know that y'all are using his comms? First dad, now you."

"Don't worry about that, we have much bigger problems," Charlie said urgently. "Also, how are you? How's Castiel?" 

"Later- Charlie, what's wrong?"

"For starters, the new schutta governor arrived a week before schedule, so your dad was forced to let her take over the old palatial compound," Charlie explained. "And Dean, don't freak out."

"Charlie, saying that doesn't exactly make me feel any better," Dean pointed out. 

Charlie just blurted it out. "Jody and her family have been kidnapped."

"What‽" Dean stood up, suddenly, and banged his knee against the underside of the console. Dean swore empathically, vaguely registering Charlie asking if he was okay. Dean waved a hand at her. "I'm fine, I'm fine, how in the farkled shavit did Jody and her family get kidnapped?"

"I don't know what to tell you Dean, I just, I'm sorry," Charlie said. The woman's eyes were brimming with tears, and Dean wished he could given Charlie a hug. "I know I'm supposed to be monitoring our refugees, and I was, but with the commotion that came with Abaddon's arrival I just lost track…"

"All of them? Jody, Donna? Alex?"

"Gone, Dean, and no matter how many times I watched the holorecordings from the security cams we set up I can't find any clue as to who took them, and their whereabouts. I've had police look into it, even  _ Bobby _ , Dean, but whoever took them knew how to cover their tracks," Charlie said. "Maybe they were wearing stealth suits that disrupted the feed? I don't know, Dean."

"Charlie, I am sure you did your best," Dean said soothingly. "I don't blame you for any of this. We will find them, don't worry." Dean gritted his teeth, and shook his head. "I'm putting my money on the damn Empire. Can't be a coincidence that they disappeared when those bastards arrived."

"But Dean, we have no proof-"

"Since when do they need proof to arrest whoever they wanted?" Dean said. He clenched his fists. "All the more reason to drive them off of our planet."

"Dean, is everything okay? I can sense your- Charlie?" Dean turned to see Castiel slip past one of the chairs, and approach him from behind. "Is that Charlie?"

"Cas?" Charlie's voice quickly became excited, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Oh Force, Castiel! It really is you! I haven't seen you in forever, and I heard how 'interesting' things have been with you and Dean so far. How are you doing?"

"A complicated question with an equally complicated answer," Castiel responded. He frowned, and tilted his head to one side. "You are upset. You are both upset. What is going on?"

"Okay, so you know how Dean is saving the galaxy one Force-sensitive at a time?" Charlie said, and Castiel nodded. Dean ducked his head in embarrassment, upset simmering down to a dim spark. "Right, so one of families have recently disappeared, and we don't know how, when, or where have they gone."

"Is it possible that they left of their own accord?" Castiel asked, and Dean turned sharply to look at him. "It isn't impossible that they decided to go on a family trip and neglected to check in."

"Not them," Dean explained. "Jody and Donna are a part of the local constabulary, and wouldn't miss any of their shifts. They're also devoted to their eight-year-old Force sensitive kid, Alex, and know how important it is to check in. Alex is wanted due to her connection to the Force, Jody and Donna due to their 'kidnapping of an important Imperial asset'. Who calls children an 'asset'?"

"Evil people," Charlie supplied. "I'll give you more information when you get here. You're still a few hours out so… maybe, try not to worry too much?"

"Unlikely."

"Fat chance."

Castiel and Dean spoke at the same time, and Charlie barked a laugh. "Okay, boys. I'll see you later. Clear skies."

"Clear skies." Dean echoed, and turned off the holocom. He exhaled, and turned to Castiel. "Well. I thought I could show you around before everything blows up, but I don't think that's gonna happen. I hope you're ready."

"What's the worst that can happen?" Castiel said, smiling. 

"No, don't say that!" Dean moaned. "Nothing good ever happens when someone says that!"


	15. Chapter 15

The conference room was located in the building that housed the main offices for the local government. John Winchester lead the local city government for years now, and he ran a tight ship. It was constantly swept for bugs and had a sound dampener to make sure no one could listen in from the outside. Dean, Castiel and Gabriel immediately exited the ship upon arrival and headed straight for the meeting. Dean opened the double doors, and the room immediately went quiet. Everyone turned towards Dean, including other Larkan officials, who were an unexpected addition to the family meeting.

"Dean," his mom said, rising from her chair. Dean went and enveloped her in a gentle hug. "Hey mom. Ah, Cas and Gabriel are here as well."

“Yes dear, I can see that,” Mary said, smiling. “Master Jedi, thank you for coming to Larka’s aid once again.” She bowed.

“No need for that, please,” Castiel said, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. “Neither of us are in the order anymore.”

“And I left far before shavit went down, then Vader killed all of us, so formalities should be shot out of the window,” Gabriel offered. Castiel wrinkled his nose, and frowned at his former master. Dean suppressed the urge to laugh.

Sam stood as well, and Dean all but jumped on his brother. "Hey Sammy," Dean said, grinning. Sam shook his head. 

"Sure, use a childish nickname during an important meeting about a high stakes planetary concern," he whispered wryly, and Gabriel snickered behind Sam. "And Castiel!" Sam gave the Jedi a quick hug. “I’m so glad to see you. And Master Gabriel Aeng’l,” Sam said, teasing in his voice. “The nerve you have to show your face around here again, after what you did.”

Gabriel pointed at himself in disbelief, and Sam smiled slowly. The two men chuckled, and shook hands. “It’s good to see you too, Sam.”

"Dean," John said, and Dean nodded solemnly at his dad. Dean's grip was firm as they shook hands. "I’m glad to see you safe, son.” He patted Dean’s shoulder once.

“Thanks, dad.”

John turned to the Jedi, and clapped Gabriel on the back, enough to bowl over. "Gabriel, you're still alive!" John greeted, and they shook hands.

"Sorry for crashing the party John," Gabriel said, smiling. “Your son invited me.”

“And I’m glad you’re here. We could use your help. You too, Castiel, thank you both for being here to help us,” John said.

Castiel tipped his head at John, and said, “Once again, Mr Winchester, you should save your thanks for once we actually do something worth gratitude.” Dean held his breath. It was the same line Castiel had delivered when he’d first come to Larka as a child. John found it hilarious coming from a padawan. Now that they were older, Dean was concerned it would come off as disrespectful.

But John merely raised an eyebrow, and gave a quick, respectful nod at Castiel. Dean exhaled in relief, and watched as his father turned to everyone else and began the meeting. "Let us start, with everyone already here."

"I believe you are all updated on who our new governor is,” John said, pointing to the hologram projection in the middle of the room. “Abbadon Daemun.” The hologram was tinted blue, but Dean could make out red hair and ice cold blue eyes. Her lips were tinted blood red, and the hologram had a smile spread slowly across her face with a calculating, cold expression. “She had arrived a week ahead of schedule. We have settled Abbadon in the old building," John said. "As of now, there's nothing to do but," he spat, "what they want us to."

"What exactly do they want?" Dean asked.

"Full cooperation of Larka. We are to become an imperial stronghold, we're “strategic”, which is such bantha crap," John said. "Much as I want to refuse, it's our people that will suffer. I've been working on quelling negative attitudes among the citizens. We have to make sure there aren’t any demonstrations or protests - nothing that would cause the Empire to make trouble."

"We're trying to keep the peace, had some ads go around on the holonet," Jo said, flicking her blonde hair behind her ear. She wore the dark blue dress uniform of the local constabulary, and stood at attention under John's stare. "But our people are not very good at keeping their thoughts to themselves. I'd give it a few days, maybe a week, and there'll be protests and displays from the masses. I’m sure it’s starting in small communities on the holonet as we speak."

Kevin nodded. "The local government personnel also attest to this; they're trying to keep things quiet, trying to keep them calm, to have them wait for our move, but we cannot take too long." The young man looked more like an intern than someone in charge of communications between the local government and the Winchester family, but Dean knew Kevin is more than capable of doing his job. Kevin looked confident, and Dean was certain that if he asked him a question about how the local government units are placating their people he would be able to give him a chart about which province is doing what. 

"We need to figure out a way to take them out somehow, have them leave us alone," Dean said. "Especially since I am sure that they're the ones that took Jody and her family."

"Dean, we can't go slinging random accusations -"

"Oh come on Sam, really?" Dean said. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, and frowned. "Coming from you? Don't think that I don't know what you've been doing, working with the rebels and putting us all in jeopardy-"

"Dean, that's enough," Mary interjected, voice steady and calm. 

"I don't think any of you heard me: Jody and her family are missing!" Dean reiterated loudly. "Does anyone in this room care that some of our refugees are gone, right when the Empire lands on Larka?'

Nobody answered. "Unbelievable," Dean said, and he stood up, determined to leave the room. If they did not give a crap, he might as well look for them on his own. 

“Dean,” Castiel said lowly, putting a hand over Dean’s. Dean took a deep breath and slowly released it. He turned his hand under Cas’ and laced their fingers together. .

“I apologize,” said Dean. “I might be a little rattled by the turn of events.”

Dean turned to Sam, about to ask his brother for his opinion. However, Sam was looking at their father pointedly instead. John nodded back at Sam, and said loudly, “Meeting is adjourned for now. Please come back at 0900 hours.” Most of those in the room murmured an affirmative, and Jo gave Dean a pat on the back as she left. Aside from the Winchester family and the two jedi, only Bobby, the family’s trusted friend and security head, remained.

“Dean, we need to ask you something important,” Mary began. 

Dean drew his eyebrows together in confusion. A sense of foreboding came over Dean. “Yeah, mom?” He said cautiously.

Mary continued. “As I have said, this matter needs a delicate touch. Diplomacy and politics, infiltration and espionage.” Dean frowned. He felt like he knew where this was headed, but he said nothing. 

"Dean, we need you to become Larka's Imperial Liaison."

Dean stood up, angry once more "What‽ Are you- are you farking kidding me?"

"Language, Dean!" Mary said. She sounded tired. "This is an important government meeting, clandestine as it is. And your mother is in front of you. You will show respect."

"Sorry, mom," Dean said, but he couldn't keep the exasperation from his tone. "But, no! There is nothing good that comes from bowing to their demands! I want to go in there to  save Jody and her family, and no more."

"We are not bowing to their demands,” Sam explained calmly. His hands were set on the table, and they occasionally twitched and clenched surreptitiously. “We are sending in a liaison in order to facilitate the talks better and so we will have some representation. You cannot just go storming the castle and killing everything in sight, Dean.”

“We understand how important they are to you,” Mary explained. “And believe me, Dean, everyone in this room wants the Empire gone from our planet, and wants Jody and her family found. But we cannot simply move in without a plan of action. If assassinating Abaddon would fix our problem, believe me, with how I know our old compound like the back of my hand I would do it myself. But we can’t. This requires a delicate touch - and you know this.”

“First of all, I would do it  quietly , I will not simply blow up a whole facility of people just doing their jobs,” Dean said incredulously. “I’m not cruel, nor am I a massive idiot. Secondly, we don’t need any representation further than what you offer as a senator, Sam.” He waved an arm at Sam. “And furthermore, I don’t think we would benefit from a liaison, no matter who it would be. The Empire would not listen. It ain’t a democracy.”

“It’s for show. We need to be seen as a cooperative planet,” John said. He leaned back, and crossed his arms. “It’s for the good of the country. The less noise we make, the less the Empire dips its fingers into our pies, the less we have to deal with them. We’ll find dirt on her, expose her, then she leaves.”

Dean sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. The conversation was starting to wear on him, and he was starting to feel ganged up on. “Being the liaison would have your plan of espionage take too long. We can’t afford to keep them here. I’m not going to be a part of this. I want to save those at risk, and prevent more people from getting hurt, or worse.”

  
“Dean, you can’t storm an Imperial compound for three people. For one family! One family versus the whole planet!” Mary exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her hands.   
  
“It’s not a math problem!” Dean punctuated his words with a palm slamming against the table. “They aren’t statistics you can simply discard. For Force’s sake, Alex is just eight. And she’s already called an imperial ‘asset’,” he used the term derisively. “What  exactly are they going to use her for? Am I really going to play politics while they brainwash a child and kill her parents?”

Sam frowned. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Think of your other refugees. They would be in more danger if you act now, instead of letting this go. We need to collect information first, and we cannot do that if you shoot everything in sight.”

Dean huffed. “Larka will never stand for one of their beloved police officers, new as they are, simply disappearing. Ask Jo. This is ludicrous and you know it!”

“Dean, I think they may have a point,” said Castiel, and everyone turned to focus on him.

Dean blinked in disbelief. “Cas?”

“We need someone on the inside to tell us what is going on so that we can thwart their plans,” Castiel said. He gestured at Dean with his hand. He leaned forward, and stared at Dean intensely, like he was willing Dean to believe what he was saying. Dean leaned backward, crossed his arms, and looked away. “That person is  you , Dean. You’re the only one who would be able to be both a diplomat and a spy, an infiltrator. You were the representative of Larka for years, and you’ve done your fair share of small battles and skirmishes with the Empire while saving Force sensitives. You know how these people think, Dean. You have the experience.” Castiel’s expression softened. “And as terrible as it sounds, your family is right. We have to think of the greater good. Such is the will of the Force, I can sense it.”

Dean wrinkled his nose and his upper lip twitched in disgust, but he eventually relaxed. He could see Gabriel shaking his head at the corner of his eye. He sighed, and massaged the sides of his forehead with one hand. “Look, look, if we’re going to do this, we can’t just install me as a liaison. I am not a known Imperial supporter at all.” 

“But you are not known as a detractor either. You’ll seem neutral, and that’s better than anyone else,” Sam pointed out.

“Look I- what am I doing,” Dean interrupted himself. “No, I will not stand for this. This is a terrible idea and you all should see that. I don’t care if you believe the Force wants me to do this - this is  wrong .” 

Castiel shook his head, and implored. “Dean, I believe this is where you are needed -”

Dean stood up abruptly, cutting Castiel off. He held out a hand, which Castiel took with raise of an eyebrow. “Cas, may I talk to you outside for a second?”

\---

Dean’s palm slammed against the meeting table with a loud thwack, and Castiel’s sight swam, then darkened. He blinked once, twice, and the Force surged, and Castiel was now in the halls of the old compound. Dean walked in front of him, and farther along the hallway he could see Governor Daemun giving a slight wave, and a gesture for him to go into her office. Dean gave a slight nod, and walked over to talk to her. Dean wore Larka’s dress uniform of brown and olive green, with the official Larkan seal on his sleeve. KAZ was right behind him, and Dean pointed towards another room, and KAZ slipped in to do whatever Dean had told him to. Dean then went forward to greet Abaddon with his diplomatic smile, charm oozing from his movements. “Governor, I heard you needed your liaison. How can Larka help you?”

Something in the Force shifted, and Castiel was back in the meeting, with Dean passionately talking about the child, Alex. Castiel blinked in surprise. For the first time in years, Castiel had a  vision , and it was very clear.

Castiel knew that going against Dean, with him impassioned and on fire about this topic, might kill any chance Castiel had to be with the man he loved. But he saw Dean stand his ground today, and Castiel could not have been prouder of him. Even as he tried to sway Dean and change his mind, Dean remained resolute. Then Dean called him aside.

Castiel had to admit that when Dean asked if they could talk, he quickly became anxious. Castiel followed Dean outside, and he tried his best not to fidget. “Dean?”

“Cas, look, I,” Dean sighed. “I don’t know how to say this. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing, telling me what you really think, and I’m sure that you probably truly believe in what you’re saying. But,” Dean paused, as if he was trying to figure out how to say something. “I can’t… not from you too.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel loosened his shields, and felt the anxiety seep from Dean. Castiel immediately stepped forward and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, which didn’t get his desired effect.

Dean stiffened. “Cas, please don’t make me spell it out.” 

Castiel frowned, and put his hand down. “You have to Dean, I do not understand what you want from me. I need to know what you want.” 

“I know that you have good reasons why you think-”

“Dean, let me stop you there,” Castiel immediately said. He’d heard this before, and he did not want to encourage it, especially since he failed to discourage it in the past. “I don’t want you to just do whatever you feel is best for  me . It’s insulting that you think I am incapable of supporting you even if I am vocal about what I believe in.”

Dean looked away. “Our history says otherwise,” Dean trailed off, clearly deep in thought. 

Castiel shook his head. He moved back into Dean’s space, and held him by the cheek. He turned Dean’s face towards him, and said softly, “Then at least give me a chance to show you that I am capable of change.”

“Okay,” Dean began. Castiel could hear the hesitation in Dean’s voice, but there was a quiet determination that emanated from the other man. He could see Dean force himself to look into Castiel’s eyes. “I know that you have good reasons why you think it’s a good idea for me to be the liaison, but I really need you to back me up here. Jody and her family are important to me, Cas,” Dean took Castiel’s hand from his cheek, and squeezed it. “Their case is what made me realize that being a senator wasn’t enough to combat what happened to the republic. It would take us years to make a difference through words and politics; I wanted to help  now! ” Dean stepped back, and started to pace. His words were accompanied with hand gestures. “I wanted to help those who would have been overlooked by everyone, like Jody and her family. You’re right - what are three people for the whole planet?” Dean stopped, and looked back at Castiel. His stared burned into Castiel, and Castiel was hit with a very strong feeling of resolve and courage that almost bowled him over. “That’s exactly the same thing everyone will say. But who are we to make that call?”

“I see,” Castiel said, as he tried to collect his thoughts. He was not sure what to tell Dean. He knew what the Force had shown him, but he also knew that this was very important to Dean, and he was not going to turn on his own words of compromise now. 

“You see?” Dean repeated, doubt in his voice.

“I see,” Castiel reiterated. “This is very important to you. And I could definitely see where you are coming from. And you are right - even if they are three people, they’re still worth our best efforts,” Castiel sighed. Dean would not like what he would say next. “But I don’t think I can condone putting an entire planet at risk for only three people.”

“So what does this mean?” Dean’s voice was flat, and it hurt Castiel to listen. Castiel looked away for a moment, thinking. He startled, an idea suddenly occurring to him. He turned it over a few times in his mind. It could work.

“I believe there is a way that we can resolve this that would please everyone involved.” Castiel said slowly.

Dean seemed taken aback, and there was a beginning on a half-smile on his face. “You think so?”

“Yes. Thank you for telling me, Dean,” Castiel replied. “If you hadn’t told me how important this is to you, I have to admit: I would not have found a compromise between the two.” He smiled at Dean, who smiled back at him. Even though he seemed guarded, there was relief that Castiel could feel coming from Dean. “Just like in any diplomatic situation, I need to hear both sides clearly and see their motives, their needs, or else I would not be able to help anyone,” explained Castiel further.

Dean enveloped Castiel suddenly in his arms, and pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Thank you, Cas. I really appreciate this.” Castiel squeezed his partner’s shoulders. 

Dean took Castiel’s hand, and led him back inside. Everyone was quiet. Upon sitting down, Castiel spoke again. “I think Dean is right.”

John groaned, rubbing both his palms against his face. “Just a few minutes outside with your boyfriend and he’s already changed your mind.”

Castiel turned to him sharply. “He’s explained to me why this is important to him, and if he decides to tell you as well, I will support him.” 

“The people will stop  trusting  us if we do this,” Dean explained. “If you think they love you now, just do something that would lose their respect and we’re done! We’re still politicians!” Dean waved both of his hands in the air. “No politician is ever fully trusted by their constituents!”

Mary shook her head. “We’ve always done what is best for Larka, and I believe they would see the wisdom in our actions.”

Sam cocked his head, frowning. He looked at Gabriel, and observed, “You’ve been awfully quiet Gabriel.”

Everyone’s attention quickly shifted to Gabriel, who was holding a cookie in the air as he chewed thoughtfully. Castiel noticed now that there were snacks in one of the tables in the corner of the room.

“I’m capable of listening, unlike you lot who has been yapping about what you  want to do, and what would be best for  your cause,” Gabriel started in a needlessly sarcastic tone while waving his confection, and Castiel frowned at him. “The people you lead won’t stand for this. Larka has never been good with the idea of a dictator, much less an outsider, both of which your interloper embodies.” Gabriel gestured with a hand. “Look, Dean’s right. Jedi’s been around for years, we do right by people, but look at where we are now: our death was celebrated with applause and excitement. Your people may seem different, but they are never  that different,” Gabriel said, jabbing his cookie in the air to make his point. “And that family? One person can mean the universe to another; all lives are equal in the Force. Who are we to dictate that they are not worth saving?”

John sighed, frowning at the turn their conversation went. Castiel could feel the frustration from the man, as it seemed like the meeting had just gone full circle and there was still no solution in sight. “So what do you propose we do? Anyone?”

Castiel leaned forward. “I may have a solution which would please all of you,” he said. “It would save the family, and discredit and remove a controlling Imperial presence from Larka, including Alastair, and leave behind someone whom we hope would leave the planet mostly alone.”

Mary furrowed her brows. “Alastair?”

Castiel almost hit himself in the face with his palm. Of course, they hadn’t told anyone of the vindictive man who had been following them. “A tail we picked up from Garqi, yes.” Castiel winced at the disbelieving look on the Winchesters’ faces, excluding Dean, whose palm was already on his own face. Gabriel looked like he was about to laugh. “Ah, we need to talk about Alastair.”


	16. Chapter 16

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his crisp dress uniform, missing his leather jacket and loose tunics already. "I look ridiculous."

"I know for a fact that Castiel loves a man in uniform," Gabriel piped up, peeking from the other room. "Hmm, maybe we should hunt down some jedi robes for you."

"You know, it's really bizarre, not to mention very unnerving, when a person's mentor act as their wingman as well," Dean commented flatly.

"Is it effective?"

The door slid open, and Dean heard a sharp whistle from beyond. Charlie walked in, accompanied by a cylindrical looking droid with a transparent dome on top. It was black with chrome trim, and it shone like it just had an oil bath. Two narrow legs extended to its sides, and it whistled and shook excitedly upon seeing Dean. 

"KAZ!" Dean greeted. He walked towards the droid, and patted it on the head. "It's good to see you! All fixed now?"

The droid beeped and whistled back, and Dean laughed. "I know bud, but you were injured. I couldn't have my favorite droid die in the line of duty!" 

"May I cut in?" Charlie said, and KAZ hooted softly, and rolled off further into the rooms. 

"KAZ, I need to talk to you later about our assignment!" Dean called out, and KAZ tittered in response. Dean grinned, and turned to Charlie. 

"Really Dean? I can't believe you greeted the droid first!" Charlie said, pouting.

"Aw Char, you I can bribe to keep me in your good graces," Dean said. He gestured towards the other room. "KAZ is less forgiving."

Charlie sighed. "Much as I like to disagree, you're right. We temporarily reassigned him to Bobby while you were gone, and Bobby was so close to having him disassembled. He kept on doing what he thought is 'right' instead of doing what he's told," Charlie said. "Did you have his independence tweaked or something?"

Dean laughed. "No, he's just really used to working with just the Impala, and is stubborn about taking care of ships his own way."

There was a loud shriek coming from the other room, and a high pitched happy sounding noise. "I think KAZ found Castiel," Charlie remarked.

"KAZ has always been a huge fan of his namesake," Dean said with a smile. Charlie bit her lip, as if she was holding herself back from saying something, and Dean waved at her to start.

“Look Dean, I need you guys to be careful okay?” Charlie began. “I have already uploaded the schematics of the old compound to KAZ - who am I kidding, you probably know the building better than the blueprints, but I just want to be sure. I also included all the ports that KAZ can access. They might have made some changes to the place, but they’re still using the system that your dad had me add a backdoor to. And since they’ve just got here and I don’t think their IT guy is very brilliant so he won’t have had time to-”

“Charlie,” Dean interrupted. He held her gently by the shoulders. “We’ll be fine. I know I have you on standby, and KAZ or I will have a comlink on us at all times. We’ll be ready. Besides, I know you made sure that KAZ’s programs and features are all upgraded so we’ll definitely be able to get some info on these bastards.”

Charlie nodded. “Dean, also another thing, I think they’re starting to be suspicious of the refugees we have on Larka, especially since they saw Jody. There have been plainclothes troopers roaming the streets lately according to Jo, and Kevin noticed that Imperials are moving into the different neighborhoods. I don’t think you have a week. People don’t like that the Imps are assimilating - they think it’s a sign of us ‘joining’ them.”

Dean exhaled. “Well, then I better find Jody, Donna, and Alex, and figure out a way to get rid of these guys, and fast.”

Just then, Castiel entered the room with KAZ and Gabriel in tow. Dean’s jaw just about dropped off his face as he saw how Castiel cleaned up in the Larkan state colors. He looked sharp in one of Dean’s brown formal leather jackets, and a green tunic underneath. Dean licked his lips, and found himself gravitating towards the other man. He did not know that seeing Castiel in his clothes would still have this effect on him, and Dean found that he wanted to assist Castiel in ripping his pretty clothes off.

Gabriel cleared his throat, and that pulled Dean out of his reverie quickly. Gabriel had a formal tunic on in Larkan colors, but the details of his clothing went unnoticed as Dean’s eyes landed on the fakest, bushiest moustache he has ever seen in his life. “What died and crawled on your face?” Dean said, blinking. “You do know that we have all kinds of disguises, right?”

“I’ll have you know that this style is attractive in at least 20 planetary systems, and don’t worry, the Force is with me, literally. No one’s gonna notice,” Gabriel said, stroking his chin, as if to frame the fake hair. 

“Yeah, because everyone will be too busy looking absolutely _ everywhere else _ because he looks hella creepy,” Dean murmured to Charlie, who giggled. KAZ tittered behind them, and Dean patted them on the head in a facsimile of a high five. “You said it, KAZ.”

Sam entered the room, and paused in his tracks. “All right, so I hope you are all - what in the galaxy is on your face? Is that contagious?”

“Everyone on this planet is a damn comedian,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. He sat on one of the couches in the room. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the damn moustache. “So, brief me?”

“I can’t take you seriously with that face,” Sam said, and Gabriel groaned. He peeled off the moustache in one fluid motion, and started massaging his upper lip. Castiel handed him some product to color and slick his hair back, instead. Gabriel frowned and got to work after he gestured at Sam to continue.

“Charlie and I will remain connected to their system remotely, so if you need any help, just ping us through com-link. KAZ will help us through any obstacles by accessing the ports in the Imperial center itself, while Gabriel will be Dean’s aide-slash-security personnel for safety and another pair of eyes inside the compound.” Sam then gestured at Castiel, who moved closer. Dean moved as well, looking at the map that Sam had just set up on the table. A holographic model of the compound appeared, the secret entrances that Sam and Dean knew by heart tinged in red. “Obviously, none of those entrances are known to the public, or in any schematics in any database on Larka, just this one holo right here, mapped by me and my memory.” Sam wrinkled his nose, and gestured at Castiel. “Ah, Cas, much as I would like for you to actively take a role beside Dean as added protection, we can’t have you go in there, it’s not safe; people might recognize you as Jedi.” Dean nodded at this, and he winked as Castiel caught his eye. 

Dean said, “You were no Anakin Skywalker but you did win your fair share of battles. And as one of Larka’s favorite heroes who saved the ruling family from being burnt to a crisp, it wouldn’t be impossible that the Imps did their research on our recent history and know about you. We can’t run the risk of them realizing who you are and capturing or kiling you where you stand.” 

“Just have Cassie be the new liaison’s consort - pretty decoration,” Gabriel put in as he finished with his hair. He waggled his eyebrows at Dean, then gestured towards Castiel with the comb. “He’ll fit right in!”

Dean scowled, but before he could respond, Castiel spoke. “Sam’s right - people could recognize me as a Jedi either way." Castiel frowned at Gabriel. He handed him a pair of glasses, and when Gabriel put them on, Castiel looked satisfied. "With what happened on Garqi as well, we should not risk it.” 

Gabriel slung an arm around Castiel. “No pushback on the consort then?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’m a Jedi no longer,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting Dean’s. Dean was certain he saw Castiel lick his lips. “Might as well lean into it.”

KAZ shrieked, and everyone followed suit in hoots and whistles. Castiel took Dean’s hand as he gaped like a fish, not knowing what to say or how to react. Dean blinked at the other man, who smiled at him apologetically. “I know the timing isn’t the best, but I remember you’ve always wanted a declaration,” Castiel whispered. “I’m only sorry it took me this long to ‘get with the program’, so to speak.” The other man’s fingers twitched in Dean’s, as if to make air quotes, and Dean grinned widely.

Castiel was right. He’d always been pushing to be recognized as Castiel’s significant other, despite the reality that it wasn’t wise due to their positions. Even just an acknowledgement from Castiel then would have sufficed, but it never happened. 

Until now. And it felt even better than Dean expected.

Dean eyed his partner, and Castiel stared back. Sam cleared his throat, and Castiel broke their gaze to look at Dean’s brother. “You’ll need to make your own way in. Ash can definitely help you with that - he, ah, knows the different routes more than we do.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said with a grin. “He was the best dealer ever. No security official ever figured out how Ash snuck about to get his merch to us. Best hallucinogens on the planet.”

“And a pain in Bobby’s ass,” Sam continued wryly. “Anyhow, I’m sure Dean’s presence would be enough of a smokescreen, and I would really appreciate if you could follow him closely to him as he weaves through the new Imperial center, keep him safe.”

“Especially when I can’t move, since I’ll be an aide-slash-security personnel and can’t be too suspicious,” Gabriel said.

Castiel gave a sharp nod. “Dean’s safe with me.”

With that, the group broke off to finish the rest of their tasks before they stormed the castle, and Dean caught Castiel’s arm before the man could leave. He pulled him to a supply closet in the corner, and before the door even slid close, he met the man’s lips with his own.

The angle was wrong and there was more teeth than lips, but Castiel responded eagerly in kind. They got into a much better position after banging too many limbs against the shelving units, and finally the frenzy slowly died down into small kisses and nips. Dean bit Castiel’s lower lip gently, before pulling back. 

“Thank you, for - that was, I appreciated you finally - thank you Cas,” Dean said as he panted heavily. He adjusted what he was sporting in his pants, and was very, very aware of the hard length that he could feel from Castiel on his thigh.

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel said, resting his forehead against his partner’s.

“I know,” Dean responded with a chuckle. His hands found the lapel of Castiel’s jacket and pulled Castiel back in for another quick make-out session. Castiel’s hand was splayed at the small of Dean’s back, and crowded him into the wall. The door slid open when they hit a button, and they stumbled unceremoniously onto the floor.

Sam sighed from above them. "If you are both done, we have work to do."

\---

Heels clicked on the tile floor, and Dean looked up to see a woman walking towards him. Her hips swayed sensually from side to side, her grey, supposedly-severe-looking uniform cut into something that accentuated her waist and her chest. Her fiery red hair was tied into a bun and tucked into her uniform's cap. Her lips were blood red and curled into a slight smile, showing just a bit of teeth, like she was displaying fangs.

Dean felt something nudge him, and turned to see Gabriel pressing his lips together. There was something very dangerous and very _ wrong _ about this woman in front of them, and yet Dean had just stared at her like he wanted to drink her in. There was something about her that was strangely magnetic, but Gabriel’s presence was enough to pull him back out.

She gestured at Dean to follow her into the office. It was the biggest office in the building, the one that John Winchester used when Dean was a child. Dean recognized huge wooden table that was Larkan made, but the walls lacked the charming pictures of family and landscapes that Dean was used to. Instead it had severe and opulent art that oozed wealth, but the subject matter, the Great Sith War, left much to be desired. There was violence and darkness at every turn, and a part of Dean mourned losing the room to this woman.

Dean nodded at Gabriel, who took his spot by the door. KAZ was nowhere in sight, and Dean knew the droid headed off into another room to gather important information from one of the computer ports. Dean went forward to greet Governor Daemun with his best fake smile. “Governor, I heard you needed your liaison. How can Larka help you?”

“Dean Winchester," Governor Daemun crooned. Her voice made Dean think of molten lava - gorgeous but absolutely dangerous. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Governor Daemun.”

“Please, call me Abaddon,” she said with a slow smile. “Dispensing of the formalities makes for an easier way of conversing, don’t you think?”  
  


There was something slimy and not quite right under her veneer, and Dean did his best not to frown openly. “Alright, Abaddon, what can Larka do for you?”

Abaddon’s smile grew sharper, more lethal. “That is not the correct question. The correct question is, what can I do for Larka?”

“Oh?” Dean raised an eyebrow. He noted that Gabriel stood by the door and almost faded into the background, which made him feel safer. 

Abaddon started circling him as he stood in the middle of the room, like a firaxan shark with its prey. “I can make Larka amazing, a hub for the Imperial rule on this sector. I can make its agriculture become the best source for the Empire, and I can make the Emperor turn his head and actually look at this planet and see its potential.”

  
Dean did not follow her with his eyes, and stood his ground. “That is very flattering, thank you. The people of Larka is grateful for your attention, even if we just want to live in peace.” 

“I like your world,” Abaddon said. She stepped forward behind Dean, and Dean remained steady. Her breath tickled Dean’s ear. “All its lush greenery, its nice people - it’s all so backwater, very underdeveloped. So we’ll take it all down, raze forests and farmland, put up cities, get workers to really toil and push themselves. It will be glorious.” 

Dean turned his head a little, jaw clenched as he spoke. “Larka has always been an agricultural planet, as we believe in working with the earth -”

“Well, you’re under new management now,” her voice lilted and sang sweetly. She stood in front of him, a little too close for Dean’s comfort. “You have no choice. I can crush you all with a finger and the full backing of the Empire. And really, I do not need any of you Winchesters undermining my authority, as pretty as some of you are,” Abaddon’s eyes scanned him lasciviously from head to toe, “so you can all pack-up and move elsewhere, or bow to the Empire as my pretty little puppet government - you know, just to keep your people quiet.”

Dean stood his ground, eyes flashing angrily. His voice was still steady but strong, and showed no emotion beyond vehement disagreement. He had learned how to keep his anger reined in due to his diplomatic background, but the way this woman talked about his planet pushed his limits. “We won’t stand for this. My planet, my people won’t stand for this. You would have a revolution on your hands, and it will not be _ pretty _, as you say -”

“Then they’ll just have to fall on their knees.” Abaddon said with finality, and caressed Dean’s jaw with a finger. “Just like how you’d look pretty on your knees.”

Dean pointedly did not take the bait. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m not a very good politician. I don’t dance around to get what I want.” Abaddon went behind her desk, and sat down. She leaned back, fingers dancing across the armrests as she spoke. “I _ take _ , which is why I am now in this illustrious position. That makes me an even _ better _than a politician - you see it coming, and that makes it more delicious to watch everything crumble. There is no underhandedness, just certain strength. I don’t need a liaison, Dean Winchester, to take Larka, but to have an audience, well, why would a girl say no to that?” She gestured at Dean, waving at him to leave. “Go on, you are dismissed. Make sure to tell your family that I’m coming for your planet, for your way of life, and I never take no for an answer.”

Dean exhaled, teeth gritted in anger. He walked outside with his head held high, Gabriel following behind him.

“That was unpleasant,” Gabriel commented, and Dean grimaced. 

“Unpleasant doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Dean said. As he left, another woman in Imperial greys followed close by, and started walking with Dean and Gabriel. Her hair fell in waves under her cap, and she looked soft, almost ethereal. As they walked, she seemed to nudge them in certain directions, which Dean followed with curiosity. He exchanged looks with Gabriel, who shrugged at him, as if to say that he was not sure what was going on either, but this new, shorter red head did not seem to mean any harm. In fact, Gabriel was eyeing her with a naughty twinkle in his eye, which meant trouble. 

They eventually ended up in a smaller office, one that Mary used when she was planetside and conducted activities as the Larkan senator of the Galactic Republic. This woman kept the room’s elegant touch intact, and did not change anything, except there was a new bookshelf filled with rare books behind the desk. 

The woman sat primly in the chair, and smiled at Dean. “I see you’ve met my boss.”

“Yes, she definitely leaves an impression,” Dean responded cautiously. The woman spoke with an unidentifiable accent, probably from one of the core worlds. She had this lilting brogue that sounded very different to Dean’s ears.

“An impression that leaves much to be desired,” she said pointely, as if trying to get Dean to say something untoward.

Dean tipped his head. “Your words, not mine.”

“Assuredly, nothing bad was said about her. It would not do either of us to be killed for insubordination, would it?”

Dean had no patience for games, not today, not when Larka was in trouble with this new governor. If this lady wanted something, she had to speak _ now _. “Who are you?” 

“Lieutenant Governor Rowena MacLeod, at your service,” she said. She leaned forward, hands tucked under her chin. “Not part of your briefing packet, I take it?”

  
Dean was getting irritated more and more by the second, and was just barely hanging on to his diplomatic skills. He could not tell whether this lady was just wasting his time, and he needed to get back to his team with his information. “And you’re here to, what, rub it in my face that Abaddon’s now the head of the pack and out to set my planet on fire?”

“Oh no, definitely not my style. I prefer a little less fire, and a little more magic,” Rowena said with a slight wink, and Dean almost huffed. He felt something calm brush against him, and knew that Gabriel was trying to affect him through the Force. He hung on to the tendril of tranquility that Gabriel all but thrust into his face, and Dean exhaled. 

“Magic? What in the galaxy are you talking about?”

Rowena seemed to be getting a little put out at what Dean was giving her. “Dean Winchester, obviously, neither of us wants that wench in charge. You have yours to take care of, and I have mine own to reclaim some glory. That bint has not the finesse or the know-how to actually work with a local government for the good of a planet.” Her tone rose at the last sentence, and Dean considered her quietly.

“So, you’re just doing this because Imperial officers are naturally altruistic?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course not, I’m not daft. However, one might think that you and yours would be more inclined to work with someone whom you could at least talk to and maybe reach an accord with, rather than being forced to, say, watch someone else massacre your entire planet just so they could dance on its ashes and proclaim it a world for the Empire.”

Dean splayed his hands in question. Something about this woman was harder to read, and at the very least, Abaddon just wanted to obviously crush everything in her hands to get what she wanted. Rowena was a different entity altogether. She was more like the politicians Dean was used to working with, but she was still an Imperial officer so Dean had the natural inclination to be suspicious. “And why should I trust you?”  
  


“Because I want the same thing you do,” she said matter-of-factly.

“And what’s that?”

Rowena then stood up, and leaned forward. “A shot at the local Imperial throne, is all, and get rid of one absolutely terrible governor. ”

Dean crossed his arms, and frowned. “I could just get rid of you, _ all _ of you Imperials.”

“But then there will be more people like me,” she replied in a placating way, as if she was talking to a child. “Why not the devil who wants to work with you, rather than someone you don’t know?” Rowena smiled slowly, as if she knew something that Dean didn’t. She gestured at the door, which Dean took as a dismissal. Before he and Gabriel left the room, he heard her parting words. “At least think about it.”


	17. Chapter 17

Ash had given him plenty of information, most of which Castiel had never been aware of. “Maybe you forgot,” Ash offered with a smug grin. “It has been years.”

He slipped through one of the secret entrances Ash talked about, that was beyond the forest behind the building. Castiel entered a sewer from one of the creeks, and emerged into the waste treatment facility of the building. If Ash hadn’t warned him beforehand, the smell alone would have alerted the stormtroopers to his position, and so Castiel had been ready with a neutralizer for the stench.

After stuffing it back into his belt, Castiel crept along the corridors, just out of sight of the workers. He made his way into a connecting supply room towards the lift, and hit the jackpot. When he slipped out, he was already wearing an Imperial technician’s uniform, albeit rather uncomfortably fit. One of the female technicians whistled at him as he passed by 

Taking the lift up a few floors had been uneventful, thankfully, until he hit what seems to be the central hub of the activity. He drew the Force tightly to him, as you never know if there would be Force-sensitives about. He made sure to surround himself with a suggestion to make people’s eyes simply slide past him.

Castiel turned a corner and let the Force lead him through the corridors of the large compound. He vaguely remembered the last time he was here, as a teenager. There was the smell of ozone, and Castiel remembered the firefight that took place in this very corridor.

Dean had been  _ very _ thankful that Castiel saved his Uncle Bobby from certain death, and from saving the Winchesters and the Larkan government from being destroyed. 

Castiel did his best not to chuckle aloud at the memory, and kept moving forward. In the distance, light glinted against a familiar chrome trim, and Castiel started towards it. He found KAZ in a small technician booth, and Castiel slipped in immediately. 

KAZ’s dome spun, and they started tittering in tones that Castiel didn’t understand. When Castiel did not answer, the droid gave a plaintive beep, and attached themself back into the console. 

“Oh, Dean’s talking to Abaddon now?”

KAZ whistled lowly, and a barrage of text quickly appeared on the display.

“Yeah, I agree, she does seem scary. Have you found anything?”

The droid made an excited, high pitched noise. 

Castiel blinked at the information. “That is incredible work, KAZ!”

KAZ whistled in a low, soft tone, and Castiel could surmise that it meant. He chuckled. “Don’t need to be shy about your accomplishments. You did a very good job, thank you. Flash the layout on the screen for me, and don’t forget to mark where you found Jody and Donna.”

Castiel studied the map that KAZ produced. A part of him was concerned about how easy this all seemed to be, but decided that his main goal was to get the two women out of captivity first. He would deal with the consequences later. 

He wasn’t sure if this uniform would cut it if he plans on infiltrating the cell block. Castiel didn’t think a technician would have business in the prison area, he’d need to change into a stormtrooper’s armor. 

KAZ’s blueprints were remarkably accurate, and Castiel found the armory nearest to the two constable’s holding area on the map. “KAZ, am I looking at this correctly? This old safe room near Mary’s old office is marked as a converted holding cell. That’s where they’re held? Not in the cell block as I first thought?”

The droid beeped once, and Castiel frowned. “This means at least  _ one  _ of them knows some of the secret passages and rooms. We have to be extra careful.”

KAZ beeped once again, and followed Castiel out of the door. Before Castiel left the room, however, he turned to KAZ one last time. “You need to go find Dean, okay? He entered the compound with an aid and a droid. It would be suspicious if you don’t leave with him.”

KAZ hooted softly at Castiel, who read the translation on the console. “I appreciate the concern KAZ, but I will be fine. I promise.”

The droid beeped, and both of them left the room. They both headed in the same direction, leaving Castiel a little confused, but there was no time nor hidden area to ask questions. 

At a small junction, they separated. Castiel watched KAZ roll towards a room, and he caught a glimpse of Dean with a short, delicate looking redhead who did not look like she belonged in the Imperial Officer’s uniform, but certainly carried the authority of it. 

He went in the opposite direction for some of the uniforms, and once in the room was met with a requisition officer eyeing him closely. “Technician, you better be here to acquire a new uniform because what you have does not fit you right.”

“Yes,” Castiel said immediately, and the officer made an ‘mhm’ sound.

“Lemme go and get you what you need honey. You stay put there,” the woman said, and she went deep into the supply area. Castiel followed after she was well out of sight, and started for the stormtrooper armor section. He found a small sack and piled what he needed in it, and a small gravsled did nicely for ease of transport. He also buried a couple of pistols and blaster rifles under the armor, and pushed them out into the waiting area.

The officer was already waiting, her hands on her waist. “And what exactly do you think you’re going, mister? What’s your badge number?”

“You don’t need my badge number,” Castiel said, waving his hand. He pushed the Force along with the suggestion, and touched the officer’s mind. “You saw nothing.”

“Hell yeah I need your batch number. What are you even doing, waving your hand around like a Jedi. You are a technician, and you don’t need to be carting around supplies. Now what is that badge number?” The woman came closer and closer to him as she spoke, until she was in his face, and a blaster was in her hand, poking at Castiel’s gut. “You’re not from around here, are you? I can tell, as you have no idea how requisition works, or what you are even wearing. You should probably move along before I call the cavalry down on you. I’m letting this one pass as long as you get your butt out of my office.”

“You can’t do that.” Castiel whispered, and he twitched a hand, his saber sliding into his palm. “I don’t have time for this.”

“What do you even need a bunch of uniforms for? You’re already wearing one,” the officer wondered aloud. “There’s more of you, is there? I am calling the governor on this. This just won’t do.”

Castiel sighed, and slipped the saber back into his sleeve. He didn’t want to hurt the woman, who was clearly just dedicated to her job. He took two of his fingers, and brushed the woman’s forehead. He gave the strongest Force suggestion he could, and the woman crumpled. He caught her, and set her down in her chair, head on the table. Castiel could only hope that she didn’t remember anything when she woke up in a few hours.

Castiel then walked out, pushing his gravsled. He slipped into a small closet off the hallway, and found the small panel that led to the holding cell. The gravsled didn’t fit, and so Castiel left it in the other room and hoped that no one came in and see the gravsled where it shouldn’t be, and investigate.

Upon entering, he found the two women in binders, but otherwise looked unharmed. The room was surrounded by a sound dampening field, to make sure that no sound goes outside. 

“Say nothing,” the woman with cropped light brown hair whispered to a blonde with much longer hair. The blonde nodded, and both of them merely stared at Castiel. 

“I’m Castiel Nov-vak,” Castiel started. “Dean Winchester sent me.”

The blonde’s eyes brightened, and opened her mouth to speak, but the other woman held her hand out in order to stop her. “Prove it.”

  
Castiel pulled out his lightsaber, and put it on the floor. “This is the most proof I can give.”

“You’re a Jedi!” The blonde woman exclaimed, and Castiel tipped his head in agreement. 

“I’m keeping an eye on you anyway,” the other woman said, eyes narrowing. “Jedi, Sith, that means nothing to me if I don’t trust you. Many jedi have turned dark in the past years, and I’m only protecting my family. No offense meant.”

“Much as I do trust jedi in general I do agree with her. We just don’t know ya,” reiterated the blonde.

Castiel gave a nod. “Fair enough. But whether you trust me or not, can we all still agree that getting out of here is the best idea?”

The two women nodded. “Might as well,” said the blonde, eyes meeting the other. “I’m Donna, and she’s Jody.”

Castiel smiled at them in acknowledgment, and turned his saber on to get rid of the binders. Jody and Donna both sighed happily, stretching their arms to remove stiffness. “Where to, mister?” Donna said. “We have an actual escape plan, don’t we?”

“At the end of the corridor is a technician booth with a vent that should lead down to the waste management center, and from there we can exit through the sewers. So far, no one has seen me for who I really am, so we should get out of here easily,” Castiel said. “Outside is a gravsled with some uniforms. I don’t know what your sizes are, I just grabbed the first I found.”

“I hope this works,” Jody said, rubbing her wrists. “We still need to get…” She trailed off, and glanced at Donna, then Castiel. 

“We’re going to get Alex as well, don’t worry,” Castiel said. “You hid her very well. We don’t know where she is.” 

Jody and Donna exchanged looks, but neither of them said anything. They dressed in silence inside the converted holding cell, while Castiel stood in the closet space, with his back to them to give them privacy.

The door slid open, and a trooper entered. The white hat looked up, and saw the two women in the middle of suiting up, and Castiel staring at him.

The trooper whistled lewdly and bobbed his head suggestively. He grabbed some datapads from one of the compartments, and quickly left. “Sorry to disturb you mates,” he announced magnanimously, and left the room quickly.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief, and the women continued to dress. “How incompetent are they here that a tryst is apparently a normal occurence? There doesn’t seem to be proper protocol for this here people,” Donna commented.

“Scandalous,” Jody deadpanned.

Castiel laughed, head shaking. The womens’ heads disappeared in the helmets, and Castiel looked at them with a critical eye. 

“Passable,” he said. “Just a little short.”

“Nothing we can do about that now. At least we can walk out of here,” Donna said. 

“I can’t see a thing in this helmet. No wonder their troops are terrible at shooting,” Jody commented. She grabbed one of the rifles and handed them to Donna, who immediately took out the power pack and checked the bore for obstructions. Satisfied, she checked the sights, and then attached the power pack once more. Jody did the same with her guns, and then they both gestured at Castiel to indicate they were ready. 

“Time to go,” Castiel said, and the two women followed him.

They were almost home free. The technician booth was only a few yards away, and Castiel did his best to breathe normally.

“You three!” A lieutenant shouted, and Castiel froze in his tracks. 

He turned, and raised his hand in salute. “Yes, sir?”

"Come with me. I need a few personnel to stand guard at the rear entrance. Some of the residents of this planet had been seen within the forest perimeter, and we need to tighten security.” He pointed at Castiel. “You go with them and monitor the cameras for the area from the tech’s station back there as well.”

They hovered uncertainly for a split second, and the officer screamed at them. “What are you waiting for, you incompetent schuttas! Move!”

The three ran off in the direction they were pointed towards, opposite their supposed exit point. 

“Now what?” Donna asked. Her filtered voice was stark with confusion, and Castiel grinned at her.

“We’ve been provided an amazing opportunity,” he said. “We get to walk out an actual exit, instead of sneaking around in the sewers.”

“Thank Force,” Jody said. “I didn’t want to smell like garbage when I get my daughter.”

Castiel tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "We'll get her. Let's move out."

\---

Dean had just left the compound when a holo showed up on his datapad of an imperial technician skulking around a supply closet. In the video, the man pushed a gravsled in, and once inside, he removed a few wall panels. The technician then made his way into another room, and emerged after a few minutes with Jody and Donna wearing half of a stormtrooper’s armor. 

Dean knew instantly he was watching Castiel doing the rescue, and it was confirmed when the holo paused, and automatically zoomed in on Castiel’s face. KAZ, who was right beside Dean, let out panicked, loud beeps, while Dean made sure he did not show any emotion.

The holo ended, and a message on the datapad appeared. “I’ll be quiet if you will,” Dean muttered as he read.

Rowena acted fast. She must had been the one who took Jody and Donna in the first place. Dean needed to figure out the game she was playing. He didn't trust her at all. There was something about the woman that was too smooth, too dainty that probably took her opponents off guard. Underneath the ethereal facade was obviously a sharp and calculating woman who was ready at every turn. 

She probably kidnapped Jody and Donna to get Alex, to use the kid to rise up in ranks. Upon seeing Castiel, she knew that he meant something to Dean, and would be a better way to get to the heart of the people through the Winchester family. Catching Castiel with Jody and Donna might net her Abaddon's praise and the Empire's accolades, but it would take her longer to get to the top. Getting rid of her boss with the Winchesters' help would be much, much faster.

She was very clever, but Dean was no slouch. He danced with plenty of devious politicians in Coruscant, and this lady was no different.

Gabriel beckoned him into the speeder, and they drove back to Winchester’s mansion. “Was that Cassie?” Gabriel asked as soon as Dean got in. KAZ beeped in affirmation.

“You saw the holo?” 

“From afar. Wasn’t hard to figure out, though,” Gabriel answered. “She seems like one smart cookie. She actually caught  _ Cassie _ .” He had this smug look about him, with the corner of his mouth pulled up in a small smirk.

“No.” Dean said, scowling at Gabriel.

“No what?”

Dean huffed. He had heard about this from Castiel, but he didn’t think he would ever see it first hand. “You can’t do this. Not today, not right now, not any time this year or in the following years.”

“Do what?”

Dean waved at Gabriel. “This! What you are doing! Stop it!”

Gabriel scoffed, but Dean could tell he was fighting a wide grin. “Stop what?”

“That! You’re planning to sleep with her!” Dean said. “She’s the  _ enemy _ , Gabriel!”

Gabriel shrugged, and gave Dean the sweetest grin he probably could manage. “She’s hardly an  _ enemy _ . One, she’s actually saying she wants to help, two, you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close…”

Dean threw up his hands in frustration. “You are not a teenager, you’re a Jedi Master for Force’s sake-”

“ _ Former _ Jedi Master,” Gabriel offered, smoothly turning into the overhead air speeder lanes. “Besides, I’m sure Castiel has told you about me.”

Dean wagged a forefinger. “Gabriel, you screw this up and so help me-”

“Dean, I’m not going to do anything. Relax,” Gabriel said. The speeder went down a level, and Gabriel quickly gave Dean a placating look. “I will not do anything that will jeopardize our missions. If this will give us any form of advantage, I’ll gladly offer myself up, though.”

“Message received,” Dean deadpanned. He sighed. “In any case, we would have to report back to the team. They need to hear about Rowena’s request.”

Kaz started beeping excitedly, and Dean turned to look at them. Their radar dish was out, and they were chirping at Dean really fast.

“Sorry, KAZ - you need to slow down, I can’t understand.”

KAZ whistled, and beeped slower, as if trying to explain something to a child. Dean furrowed his brow. “Crowley? Crowley’s calling me on a secure line? Right now?”

KAZ beeped in affirmative. “Gabriel, we need to get to the office.  _ Now. _ ”

“On it, chief.” Gabriel said, and the speeder slipped out of the known airspeeder lanes, flying as fast as it could towards the Winchester mansion.


	18. Chapter 18

"Good morning gents, I come with free and unwanted news today," Crowley said immediately upon his face appearing in the holo. "You don't have much time."

Dean scowled at the holo that appeared before him. "What do you want, Crowley?"

Crowley tsked at Dean's greeting. "This is a courtesy call, Squirrel. You need to know that Alastair is right on your ass, and he wants to frame it on his wall."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"He knows who  _ Cain _ is," dropped Crowley without further preamble.

"What? How‽" Dean stood up, slamming his fists on the console. The holo crackled. "I make sure that all traces of  _ me _ get wiped from the Holonet, and I'm very, very damn careful!"

"Because, I told him."

"Son of a bitch!"

Crowley raised his hands placatingly. "Hence the courtesy call, eh? I had no choice. It was either spill, or die. I didn't quite appreciate how the bastard swanned into my office - hell, I don't know how he even found my office - killed one of my hounds and an employee as an example, then had his platoon train a gun to my head," said Crowley. He grabbed a glass of scotch, and swirled it around before he drank. "It was either you or me Deano, and I like being alive." 

He examined the amber liquid in his tumbler, and put it down. "I don't have much use for clients that don't respect my position. He could have simply paid for the information like a normal gentlebeing, but preferred to meet me in person and do me personal harm in my sanctuary." The last two words were punctuated with Crowley's fists hitting his table. His voice slowly rose with his anger. "That man needs to be eliminated, Winchester."

"I'm not one of your hound dogs, Crowley, I don't follow orders from you," Crowley seemed to want to say something, but Dean raised his hand to stop him. "However, since this is both our shared interest, I'll treat this as a favor. Comprende?"

Crowley looked indignant. "I already did  _ you _ a favor, by giving you this information, free."

"Which you gave out in the first place," Dean pointed out. "Imagine how bad it will look for you when people find out you can't back up your words once guns are involved."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Fine. Tell me when you're done. I'll treat this as a," Crowley spat out the next word, " _ favor. _ " 

Dean gave a nod, but before he could turn off the console, Crowley spoke once more. "Oh, and watch out for Rowena, that witch. Don't trust her."

The connection cut, and Dean blinked at the information given. How did Crowley know that Rowena had contacted him? 

It didn't matter. His main problem right now was Alastair, and that was who he needed to focus on. 

KAZ rolled into Dean's office, followed by Gabriel. "Deano," he lengthened the last vowel, "We have news on your stalker."

KAZ beeped flatly at Gabriel, and made a raspberry sound at him. Gabriel pointed at the droid accusingly. "Did he just say something rude? I think he just swore at me."

Dean laughed. "He doesn't think you're as funny as you think you are." 

"Excuse you, I'm plenty hilarious," Gabriel told the droid. The droid made another raspberry sound, and nudged Gabriel good-naturedly. He patted KAZ on the dome gently, then addressed Dean. 

"KAZ has intercepted a message from Alastair to the Imperial Consulate, direct to the governor instead."

Dean stood up from his seat. "What's in the message?"

Gabriel handed Dean a datapad, and Dean read it aloud. "Governor Abaddon, I have an urgent message for you regarding a rebellion in your area. I request an audience at the soonest possible time. I should arrive in 24 hours," Dean frowned. "It's signed Al, x-o-x-o."

"You're kidding," Gabriel said, and leaned forward to look at the datapad. "That wasn't there when I read it."

KAZ tittered, and spun their whole body. "You did this?" Dean asked. KAZ beeped affirmative. "You didn't send it this way to Abaddon, right?"

The droid beeped twice, somehow sounding incredulous. Dean smiled, and shook his head. "I know you're not that stupid, but I don't know how far your humor chip would go to play a prank."

KAZ whistled indignantly, and Dean grinned at them. "Yes, I know you're just trying to make me laugh. Thanks, baby, you're such a sweetheart."

There was a knock at the office door, and Castiel entered. Two women followed after him, and immediately assaulted him with hugs. 

“Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes Dean Winchester!” Donna exclaimed. “It took you a while to get us back, didn’t it?”

“He’s been busy,” Jody said, patting Dean on the back. “Your Jedi did a great job. Glad we trusted him.”

Dean looked at Castiel, and mouthed his thanks. Castiel merely smiled at him. Dean addressed the women, saying, “When Charlie showed me the footage, I knew you wouldn’t have left without putting up a fight. Good to see no one got shot in the process.”

“They wanted us alive and unharmed,” Jody said. “When we got to the compound, the lieutenant governor explained her relocation plan within Coruscant, so Alex can get the ‘best education’ in the whole of the galaxy.”

"The Imps never fail to be mighty fishy,” Donna said. “We knew what ‘education’ meant in Imp-speak, and it is never pretty.”

“Where is Alex now?” Dean asked.

“We were just on the way to get her,” Donna said. “We just wanted to thank you real quick, and make sure that this jedi of yours is vouched for. Judging by how your face lit up like a Life Day display, you more than trust him, so we’re good.”

"We gave Alex instructions to stay in a small bunker we had ready just in case this happens. It's new, and we haven't had time to update Charlie with the plan I drew up,” Jody said.

Donna linked arms with Jody, grinning. "Jody held drills."

Jody’s voice was deadpan, but amused. "We  _ all _ held drills. It pays to be prepared."

"Oh, for sure."Donna responded good-naturedly, and winked at Dean. Dean grinned. "Anyhow, we best be going; don't want our little kiddo to wait any longer than she has to."

"Bring Cas." Jody looked like she was going to protest, but Dean put a hand on her shoulder. "For my peace of mind, Jody."

Jody smiled. "Sure thing, Dean." The group started out the door. Dean met Castiel's eyes, as if to remind the jedi to take care of the family, and Castiel nodded.

Dean yelled out, "Call me when you have her."

Donna waved as she went through the door. "You betcha." 

\---

"Kind of him to give us 24 hours to plan," Sam said wryly as he looked at the holo Dean placed in the middle of the conference room table. "So this is Alastair, huh?"

The man's face was almost kind, like a doctor's, if it wasn't twisted into a slimy politician's smile. Dean waved a hand into the holo, and it suddenly spanned the whole table with information that they were able to get about Rowena, Abaddon, and Alastair. 

"Apparently. Didn't get a good look at him back in Garqi," said Dean. "Was busy."

Sam made a non-committal noise, and reached out to tap Alastair's name. Sam whistled. "This is quite a steep climb from when he was an ensign in the navy to prefect. It reads very suspicious, especially with how much of his advancement seemed to be due to the “removal” of whoever is higher than him, whatever that means.” He read further. “Former Garqi prefect, removed from office due to a successful terrorist incident at the local garrison."

"Oops," Dean deadpanned.

"Demoted to a commander of the vessel Asmodeus, a Super Star Destroyer,” Sam read. “That is not much of a demotion, he’s still in charge of a large amount of people.”

“Just not the entire garrison of a planet,” Dean said. “Titles and power matter to them, Sam. They’d give an arm and a leg to get back what they feel is rightfully theirs.”

Sam agreed, and turned back to the holo. "I think we’ve collected enough information about Abaddon. Some of these atrocities are damning, and I can’t believe that even the Empire is turning a blind eye!”

Dean leaned over, and read the reports. “I don’t think it’s about turning a blind eye. It seems to be more about turning heads.”

“They’re afraid of her,” Sam realized. He blinked in disbelief. “They couldn’t keep her in line, so the Empire is just waiting for someone to remove her.”

“Seems that way,” Dean replied. “Makes you wonder why the Emperor won’t just step in.”

“The man just made a massive shift from one form of government to another, give him some credit, he’s probably swamped,” Sam responded wryly.

“He took on such a big project,” Dean added.

The boys paused, and looked at each other. They doubled over in laughter at the old inside joke, with Dean wiping his eyes and Sam coughing into a fist. 

"Right, and Rowena?" Dean asked once the laughter has died down. 

"Clean record," Sam said. " _ Disturbingly _ clean record, actually. You'd think there'd be at least something, anything, a tiny spot, but nada. It’s like -”

“Magic,” Dean finished. “That’s her magic. That’s how she came to power.” Dean glanced at the list of accomplishments that Rowena had. "She is good at waving her fingers and making things appear or disappear. There is no way we can trust someone like her. If she double-crosses us, we're screwed." Dean gritted his teeth. "She has a video of Cas rescuing Jody and Donna, Sam, she's dangerous."

Sam was quiet. Dean looked at him suspiciously. "You think differently."

"Imagine having someone like her on our side, Dean."

"You're not really suggesting we work with an Imperial Officer, are you?"

"I'm just saying, we might be able to use her. We don't have to trust her, we just have to go along with her a little bit. Literally anyone is better than the schutta currently in power."

"Don't know, Sam. She's currently holding me by the balls. Not the best way to start a relationship."

Sam grimaced. "Overtly sexual, but I see your point. Still, we can-"

The holo started ringing, and KAZ's name appeared in the air.

“Yeah?” Dean answered, and Castiel’s face appeared in the holo. In the background, Jody and Donna hovered, looking anxious. 

Castiel spoke, “Dean, Alex is missing.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Alex is gone! She must have left to look for help,” Jody said. “I don’t know where she went Dean, she could be  _ anywhere _ !”

“Let me get Charlie, she can tap into the city cameras and look for Alex. We’ll find her, Jody, I promise you.”

“I’m going back to the compound to coordinate the search. Donna will stay here, maybe Alex will come back. Castiel has talked to the neighbors; Alex had spoken to them about looking for us, but refused to stay when they tried to convince her to wait a little longer. I don’t know where she would go…”

“Jody, Castiel will bring you back here, along with KAZ, who can help Charlie look through the footage. Donna can hold her end of the search with the rest of the local officials. I’ll-”

“You’re taking care of Alastair,” Sam put in. Dean turned, and saw Gabriel with Sam, their faces grim. “Gabriel’s been monitoring the communications. Alastair is here, Dean. He said he’s sending a shuttle down in an hour. I’ll help Jody with the search. You should dispatch Alastair before he meets up with the rest of the Imperials.” 

“Sithspit.”

“Sounds about right,” Gabriel agreed. “Let’s get rid of that schutta.”

\----

Maybe Dean should thank Alastair for being early, because it meant that even the Empire was not ready to receive him. With Abaddon also arriving early a day or so ago, all the hangars in the old compound were occupied due to sudden need for expansion, as the planet was not ready for the sudden influx of Imperial traffic. Alastair had to be rerouted to a private hangar off the Imperial Compound, which just so happened to be adjacent to where the Impala used to dock. 

Punctuality wasn't always an advantage, Dean thought, as he waited in the shadows of the hangar that Alastair was to land in. It meant Dean knew the area very well, and he thanked the Force vehemently for their good favor. 

The familiar whine of an imperial shuttle announced its arrival. The boarding ramp lowered, and a small platoon of stormtroopers disembarked, followed by two imperial officers. One was an obvious low level officer, the head of the platoon. The other was a more distinguished looking man, wearing the crisp uniform with pride. 

Dean looked at Gabriel across from his position. Gabriel nodded, and tipped his head towards the ship. Dean brought out a small remote, and pressed a button. 

The charges that surrounded the ship’s landing spot exploded, and the ship blew apart. Everybody was thrown to the ground. Alastair was up first, screaming at the troopers who fell. Dean's ears rang, despite the sound dampening belt that he wore, but he followed Gabriel into the fray anyway. Gabriel moved smoothly, mowing those who stood up from their position, until one of the troopers remembered he had a gun and started shooting. Everyone else followed suit, and Gabriel had to step back, saber spinning as he deflected blaster bolts. 

This drew the fire away from Dean, who'd just dispatched a trooper that he was caught in a scuffle with. Dean shot the one beside him, and slid forward to trip an advancing stormtrooper. Dean knelt, and shot the man in the folds between his armor. Dean stood, and turned at Gabriel's whistle. The jedi gestured at the platoon leader who was talking into a com-link, and Dean shot in his direction. 

The com-link exploded. Even Dean blinked in surprise at his incredible marksmanship, but had no time to marvel. He ran through the throng, flipping one man over his shoulder as he made his way, and eventually met the platoon leader with a punch in the face. 

The leader staggered, but bounced back and ran into Dean, catching him around the waist. Both fell to the ground, and the officer started whaling on Dean. Dean groped around for his fallen blaster, and managed to fire off a shot that hit the Imperial in the torso. 

Dean shrugged the man off, and went after Alastair, who was running towards the exit. He tackled him to the ground, and they went rolling on the duracrete floor. Dean's gun slipped, and both men scrambled towards after it. 

Behind him, Dean heard Gabriel's lightsaber turn off, and Dean glanced over to look at him. 

Gabriel stood in the middle of a spread of dead stormtroopers. He stalked forward towards Alastair, who had just successfully grabbed the gun, and then looped an arm around Dean’s neck to hold him tight against his chest as a shield.

"Move, and he dies." Alastair barked. Spittle coated Dean's ear, and he grimaced. 

"Gross," Dean quipped, and Alastair hit him on the head with the blaster. "Ow!"

"It's over Alastair," Gabriel said. He hooked his saber to his belt. He gestured at Alastair placatingly, like he was calming a wild animal. "You're done."

"The Empire will hear about your treachery! Larka is cavorting with Jedi - and you, Winchester, you are  _ Cain _ . You and Im'nuel destroyed the Garqi Garrison and you will pay!" With each sentence, Alastair's hold tightened, until Dean choked. "All I need is to wait a little longer until the local Imperial representatives realize what is happening in your hangar."

Everytime Dean struggled, Alastair's hold tightened to his dismay. Dean coughed, and his eyes darted around to see if there was anything he could do to get away. 

Something in the corner of his eye moved, but he couldn't turn to see what it was. 

"Let him go!" A child's voice yelled, and Alastair screeched. Dean pushed the man back, and Alastair staggered, lost his balance and fell to the floor. 

There was a small knife sticking out from Alastair's thigh, and a young girl was running away into the shadows. 

Dean saw it coming before he could react. Alastair lifted his gun towards the child, and pulled the trigger. Dean screamed "No!" and pounced on Alastair. 

In the distance, the child fell. 

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, and punched Alastair in the mouth. Alastair kicked him off with his good leg, and got up. The man pulled the knife out of his thigh, and stumbled backwards with a hiss. "She's a child! Alex!" Dean shouted and ran towards the fallen kid, but each step was accompanied by Alastair shooting in his direction, and so Dean didn't get far. 

Alastair circled around Dean so he could approach the girl, his gun still raised in Dean's direction, forcing him to remain still. He started kicking her legs, but Alex didn’t move. "Brat shouldn't be poking her nose where she shouldn't." 

"I will kill you, you bastard." Dean said quietly, voice hard.

"What is going on here?" Dean turned, and saw Abaddon and Rowena walk in. Abaddon continued, "Prefect Alastair? And," her eyes narrowed at Gabriel. "Jedi."

Abaddon raised a blaster gilded in golden filigree towards Gabriel, and started shooting. Gabriel flicked a hand just so, and gun flew away into the shuttle's wreckage.

"Arrest Dean Winchester, governor, on colluding with Jedi and harboring fugitives, destroying Imperial property, and killing innocent soldiers on Garqi. Him and his friend Jedi, Im'nuel!" Alastair screamed. His hand was raised with an accusatory finger, and it shook as he pointed at Dean.

"Governor, this man had just murdered a child on my planet. If you won't arrest him, I will execute him," Dean said. 

"Would you believe this welp obviously  _ cavorting _ with that man who is holding an honest-to-god lightsaber, over an Imperial officer?" Alastair spat out. 

Abaddon raised a hand to calm Alastair down, and looked at Dean. She smiled widely. "My my, Mr. Winchester. It seems like you have given me an even better reason to remake your planet. Who knows how many rebels are hiding in this paradise."

Dean exhaled, and licked his lips nervously. He had to think, and fast, since Abaddon seemed ready to call in the cavalry.

He glanced at Alex, who lay unmoving on the floor. Gabriel looked intense and wound up, but he seemed to be awaiting Dean's orders. Rowena was just watching them silently, waiting for what would be the next best move  _ for her. _ Abaddon smirked, her com-link in hand, and Alastair looked like the vornskr that got its prey.

There was no way out. 


	19. Chapter 19

Sam told Castiel where Dean and Gabriel went, and he wasted no time. After giving Jody an apologetic smile, to which Jody shooed him away and reassured him that Sam would be more than helpful, he grabbed the nearest vehicle he could find and sped towards the docking bay. 

There was smoke coming from the hangar. Castiel crept around, keeping close to the wall towards the front of the building, and found a squad of troopers waiting outside. He doubled back, and found a small maintenance door. The hangar was just like the Impala's old docking bay, and Castiel was grateful to the Force for his fortune. 

He surveyed the burning wreckage of a ship before him. Castiel kept to the shadows as he moved into the hangar, keeping his eye on Dean and Alastair’s exchange. Castiel happened upon a child lying on the floor, her eyes closed. Her jacket's arm seemed singed. Her face was in agony, but the child did not move. 

Castiel stretched out using the Force, fearing the worst. He exhaled in relief once he was met with a shining presence, and there was an untrained attempt to reach out to him. Castiel sent comfort towards the child, and he remotely scanned for minor injuries. “Alex?” He whispered, letting the Force carry his voice over. Alex opened her eyes, and met with Castiel's. Castiel sent her a general impression of who he was, and Alex’s mouth twitched in a grimace. Castiel nodded at her, and put his finger to his lips. The child blinked at him, and closed her eyes once more. 

Alastair was just a little beyond the child, shoulders tense. Castiel could tell that Dean tried to get to Alex, but Alastair must have shot in his direction a few times to keep the other man away, from what Castiel could tell of the scorch marks on the floor. Two red-headed women stood in the distance, and even if Castiel could not hear them over the roar of the shuttle’s fire, he could tell that there was an intense conversation going on.

An ornate looking blaster glinted in the fiery carnage of the imperial shuttle, and Castiel quietly reached for it. It would be less obvious than the telltale whine of his lightsaber. He raised the gun at Alastair, and yelled, "Hey assbutt!"

Alastair turned, eyes bulging. He raised his weapon, but before he could squeeze the trigger, Castiel shot him. He staggered back, mouth comically opening and closing like a fish, his eyes wide. There was sharp smell of urine, and the man fell backwards.

Just beyond, he saw the taller woman’s face grow pale. He could tell that the woman was ready to run, and so he held out a hand, freezing her before she could bolt. Castiel handed the gun to Dean, who quickly wiped the prints off of the weapon. "That’s that, then," he said, looking at Alastair’s body. “I almost feel bad for him.”

“Always been kind-hearted, Cassie,” Gabriel answered. “I say, good riddance.” Gabriel glanced at the smaller redhead. “We done?”

"Not quite, " she put in. "There's still  _ her _ ." She tipped her head at the taller woman, whose shocked confusion slowly morphed into understanding. Now that Castiel had a closer look, she looked like the woman in the briefings. She must be Abaddon. 

“Who’s she?” He asked Gabriel, gesturing to the other red-headed woman, who whispered “Rowena” back at him.

“She’s the vice governor,” Gabriel said, with a small eyebrow waggle that Castiel did not appreciate. 

“Do not start,” he warned, which Gabriel waved off.

Abaddon spoke, "There is no way you can get away with this. I have a squad of officers outside. If I don't come out, they would know something is wrong, and you are screwed."

"Not if she backs us up," Dean said, hand gesturing towards Rowena.

Rowena smiled primly at Abaddon. Abaddon's eyebrows were slightly raised, lips tensed in fear. Her muscles tensed, like she tried to move, and her eyes widened further in fear when she realized she couldn’t. "You can't do this."

"Of course I can," Rowena said. "This is politics. I never hid from you that I wanted your job, you just didn't think I'll actually go after it. That is entirely your fault for underestimating me." She stepped away from Abaddon. "Just because you think I'm quiet doesn't mean I'm not hiding things under your nose. You should know, that's never quite how things work."

"How would you explain all this? A prefect - a star destroyer commander is dead, and you murdered a platoon of stormtroopers -"

"You'll find out, won't you?" Rowena said. She took her com-link and started speaking into it. Meanwhile, Dean took Abaddon's arms and put them behind her back, and Castiel relaxed his hold.

“The Emperor would definitely be looking at you after this,” said Dean. "Won't need my world as a crutch."

The squad of stormtroopers entered, and the commander approached Rowena uncertainly, comlink still clutched in his gloved hand. “Ma’am, are you saying that the governor is a traitor?”

“Yes, soldier, that is exactly what I am saying,” Rowena patiently explained. “When we arrived here, the poor commander over there had a message for us. He said that he has uncovered a rebel plot, and there was a traitor in our midst who was cavorting with a suspected rebel cell here on Larka!” Rowena took the blaster from Dean gingerly with a gloved hand. “She shot him using this blaster. Of course, there aren’t prints due to her gloves, but I’m sure you can tell that it was used just a while ago. It’s her personal blaster, as you know.”

The commander nodded. “These three men are witnesses?”

“Yes, I’m the planetary liason of Larka and these are my aids,” Dean explained. “We were here to receive the captain as the communications stated that he was to be here early, and the governor here requested our assistance. When we arrived, the shuttle exploded!”

Rowena continued, “And I am sure it was meant to kill the commander and our liaison. She had accused Senator Winchester of aiding rebels to throw me off my investigation, and I am sure the governor tried to get rid of him using the explosives on the shuttle that were also meant to kill the captain.” Rowena frowned at the commander. “It is quite a mess.”

“Of course, there will be a full investigation, ma’am,” the commander replied, “But I think this should be smooth -”

“What’s your badge number, you incompetent  _ sleemo _ ? You can’t even tell that they’re lying to your face!” Abaddon screamed. Her hair was frazzled, having slipped out of her tight bun. “You are going to pay for this Winchester! You too, Rowena Crowley! I will be back and I will kill you and burn everyone you love!”

“Shut up!” The commander snapped, and hit Abaddon across the face. “Rebel scum!” He gestured sharply to the other troopers, and they dragged her from the hanger.

“Crowley?” Dean murmured. He turned to Rowena. “Like, the information broker?”

Rowena sighed. "Oh, you know Fergus? Crowley, I suppose, to his contacts."

Dean mouthed the first name to himself, disbelieving. Castiel patted him on the shoulder, and Dean held his hand. "And how do you know him? Wouldn't peg you for one to use his services."

"Well we all have our disappointments in life," Rowena said. "He's my son."

“Your  _ son _ ?” Gabriel said, disbelievingly. “You don’t look nearly old enough to have that poodoo as your son!”

Rowena winked at him. “And you don’t look old enough to be a Jedi master.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, and started for the child. “I’m going to go and attend to Alex. Dean, she’s going to need medical attention.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he ran to the child on the pavement. “Alex!” Dean scooped her up in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Ow.” The child said.

Dean grinned in relief. “I thought you were seriously hurt.”

“It’s my arm,” Alex said. “Mr. Castiel helped me a little, but it still really, really hurts.” Her eyes started to water, and Castiel sent her another reassuring touch in the Force. “I want Jody and Donna. I want my moms.”

The girl hiccuped, and started crying, curling in Dean’s arms. Dean drew her closer. 

“Master, are you-” Castiel cut himself off, seeing that Rowena and Gabriel were nowhere in sight. “I don’t want to know,” he said to Dean, who barked a small laugh. 

“At least he kept his word. Did nothing to jeopardize the mission,” Dean said, climbing into the speeder’s passenger seat. The child in his arms had stopped crying and seemed to be falling asleep. Castiel took some of the pain away from her arm using the Force, and Alex burrowed further in Dean’s arms. 

“That remains to be seen,” Castiel said wryly, as they drove towards the med center. “He might do something to Rowena and turn her against us. Won’t be the first time.”

Dean shook his head, grinning. “Give your master some credit. It’ll be fine.”

Castiel smiled. “I’ll call Jody and Donna and tell them to meet us at the med center. Let’s get Alex some medical attention.”

\--

Castiel poked Dean, whose head was buried in his arms. Dean raised his head slightly from the table, and groaned at Castiel. He put his head back down on the table, and Castiel started massaging his shoulders. 

Dean started moaning, and Castiel shivered at the sound. 

"Rowena is going to call in soon. You don't want her to think I'm doing something carnal to you, do you?"

"Let her," Dean murmured. "Shouldn't be calling at this hour, especially not after I've done my time in the medcenter."

"At the very least, change out of your pajamas and into this tunic," Castiel said amusedly. "You have to look dignified, Mr. Liaison." 

"You're right." Dean grumbled, but he stood up and stretched. He rubbed his eyes, and grabbed the shirt that Castiel handed him. As soon as he was done shrugging it on, the holocom started ringing.

Rowena was immediately down to business. " Sam Winchester called as soon as you left, and gave the news that Alastair had arrived early, hence how I received the news,” Rowena said, voice a little distorted in the holo. “He told me what’s been going on. You’ve been in quite a mess, boys.”   
  
“What will happen to Abaddon?” Castiel asked, leaning over Dean’s shoulder. He handed Dean a steaming mug of caf and gave him a morning kiss.

“Don’t bother your pretty little heads about her, you won’t hear from her again.” Rowena’s voice was cheerful. “They’re most likely going to execute her. My superiors are just waiting for someone to get rid of her, really.” Rowena’s wrinkled her nose in disgust. “She’s a little too unstable and heavy-handed to work with. The Emperor might applaud her methods, but she doesn’t have the finesse to play the game, and she’s dangerous in all the wrong ways,” Rowena said. “Everything she touches turns to dust. She reworks planets into her vision that does not fit what the worlds are meant  _ for _ . She plans to turn Larka into a city, like Coruscant! She is simply incompetent.”

“Well good riddance,” Dean said.

Rowena agreed, “That’s what the moff said. I made sure all records reflected that she was hoping to someday seize power from the Emperor, it will make her siding with the rebels more believable.”

“Gave them a neat package to work with?”

“Right you are Dean,” Rowena replied. “They questioned nothing. How’s the wee one?”

“She’s recovering, back with her family, thank you for asking,” Castiel said. 

Rowena smiled. “Of course. The bairn’s quite a brave. I had to erase from the records the medical droid’s results of a small puncture on Alastair’s thigh. Did she get my little present?”

“Yes, Alex was happy,” Dean confirmed. “The knife she used was given to her by her dead folks, and it was much appreciated that it was returned.”

“I’m glad. If ever they want to take up the Empire’s offer of edu-”

“No,” Castiel cut her off. “That will never happen.”

“I just thought I’d try,” Rowena said. “Don’t worry, her secret’s safe with me. Your secrets are safe with me as well. I have other plans to realize. As long as you all don’t jeopardize my position, I think we’ll be good friends.”

Dean scoffed. “Wouldn’t go that far, but our comms are open, thank you governor.”

“Thank you, liaison.” Rowena said. 

Before the holo cut off, there was a sound of a man in the background, inquiring about caf. Rowena turned away, and the holo shut down.

“Was that Gabriel?” Dean asked.

Castiel winced. “Yes, that was most certainly him. I have learned not to ask.”

“Well, it’s one more reason for him to visit us more often,” Dean offered, and Castiel smiled back. He held Dean’s hand, and stood up. 

“I want to go back to bed. We deserve to sleep in,” Castiel said.

“We have a meeting with the family later,” answered Dean, but let himself be pulled away. “We should get ready.”   
  


“Just for a few more hours! We had a rough day yesterday.”

“Fine.” The amusement in Dean’s voice was apparent. “But I call little spoon.”

\--

The meeting was smaller than it was before, with only the four Winchesters and Castiel present. Bobby was there as the security officer, but as usual, kept quiet in one corner. They were all in the Winchester’s private quarters, sitting in the dining room. Bobby had swept for bugs beforehand, and gave the all clear.

“Where’s Gabriel?” John asked. 

  
“Cavorting with the enemy,” Castiel offered, while Dean said at the same time, “Sleeping with the new governor.”

John sighed. “Of course, I should have guessed.”

Mary looked on with amusement. “At least he can keep her occupied, and maybe keep her off our backs.”

“I don’t think she’s going to be too much of a problem mom,” Sam said. He waved a hand, and the holo projector in the middle of the table turned on. Reports appeared, and Castiel scrolled through his with interest. “So far, the Imperial presence has drawn back to the compound, and the tariffs have been lifted, as well. Rowena has been focusing elsewhere.” Sam frowned. “It’s both good and bad for us. I would honestly feel better if I knew what she’s up to.”

John looked up from his report and waved at the holo, which changed to a large graph that Castiel perused. “Jo and Kevin report that the people are less suspicious, especially when Jody and Donna came back and explained that the governor had been dispatched, thanks to Dean. As far as they are concerned, we have been handling the Empire without pandering to them. Of course, they still view the imperial presence with wariness, which is probably smart.”

“And we need to continue to make it seem that way,” Dean said. “If Rowena continues to ignore us for other projects, all the better for Larka.”

“We need to find a way to keep her in check, and to make sure she doesn’t suspect anything about our current,” Sam coughed, “activities.” He exchanged a quick look with Mary.

Mary nodded. “There must be a way to work with her without jeopardizing everything we’ve worked for towards liberty,” she said. “Our contacts are deep underground, and I make sure that they’re trusted.”

Dean scoffed, and Castiel patted his hand. Castiel gave him a sympathetic look, to which Dean returned a defensive one. They stared each other down until John coughed loudly.

“I think this wraps it up. No one will question if the liaison is still talking to Rowena, so try your best to keep in touch with her,” John said. Dean opened his mouth, as if to protest, but John continued, “ _ Even if _ you go on missions. You have a responsibility to this planet, Dean.”

“I never said anything, sir.” Dean said, but he sent a grateful smile John’s way. 

Castiel decided this was his chance, and stood. Everyone’s attention was drawn to him, and he smiled. “I wanted to ask for your help. At the moment, I don’t have a home, as I had left Garqi, and I was wondering -”

Mary stood up before Castiel could finish his sentence, and gave him a hug. “Honey, I don’t know why you’re even asking. You’re always welcome here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” John said. “You’ve always been part of the family, you and your master. I’d find a place for you in my staff, but I think Dean would protest.”

“Sam said something about him being your consort?” Mary teased Dean, who went red and sent a glare towards his brother. “Apparently we missed a joke when you were planning. In any case, we’ll be more than happy to give you a place to stay, and a job with us, you only have to tell us what you want to do.”

“There’s a place in my security team, if you want it,” Bobby put in.

“Thank you so much, all of you. I’ll talk to Dean about it,” Castiel said. He took Dean’s hand once more, clutching it tightly. “Thank you.”

“Well, I believe that’s that,” John said. “Meeting adjourned. Glad we got to the end of this mess.” He turned to Dean. “Before you go, boy, you better say goodbye first, and keep in touch better.”

Dean nodded. “Will do, sir, I promise.” 

“Well then,” John said, leaning back into his chair. “You’re all dismissed.”

\--

Sam!” Dean yelled, jogging after his brother. Sam paused in his stride. 

“Dean?”

“Lemme talk to you for a second about your ‘activities’,” said Dean, and Sam turned away.

“Look, Dean, I’m really not in the mood to be berated for doing what I think is right, so if that’s all you want to do,” Sam trailed off, arms crossed. 

Dean shook his head. “No, I just wanted to tell you to be careful,” Dean said. He looked around furtively, and pulled Sam into one of the nearby offices. “Look, the way the Empire’s going, it seems like it isn’t going to disappear just with one quick act of rebellion.”

Sam sighed, and dropped into one of the seats. “I know. I admit, mom and I have been toying with the idea that this won’t last years, it’s obvious that the emperor’s hold is pretty strong. It isn’t going to end any time soon.”

“Something about that man is… concerning, and it isn’t just the fascism and dictatorship,” Dean said, sitting across from Sam. “I’m no Jedi, but…”

“I know what you mean. No one gets this much power in a short time and survives a Jedi attack without having some sort of divine intervention.”

Dean sneered. “I won’t say it’s divine, but it’s definitely something.” He looked at Sam. “Are you sure you and mom can do this? I know I can’t stop you, once you get a cause inside your head it doesn’t die.” Dean chuckled. “I remember when you practically forced dad to create no-kill shelters when you were eight. You created a whole campaign, and Dad was so impressed that he actually implemented your program.”

Sam smiled. “I learned from the best, Mr. Fire Safety," Sam commented. "Eight-year-old you was someone to look up to."

Dean scratched his head shyly. Sam rolled his eyes affectionately, and continued. "I think Abaddon was a sign of things to come. It won't end, and all we can do is work with the demons we know."

Dean stood up, and clapped Sam on the back. "Look, as long as you and mom keep in mind that you have a planet to protect at the end of the day and don't lose yourself to saving the galaxy…" 

"Yes Dean, we won't bite off more than we can chew," Sam reassured.

"Good," Dean said. “Sam, take care of yourself. And mom. You have to be careful. I have to imagine there are people more, if not as clever, as Rowena, and even more dangerous than Abaddon.”

“I promise, Dean,” Sam said. Dean frowned, but gave Sam a firm nod. The door suddenly opened, and Castiel poked his head in. 

"Oh, I am sorry to interrupt," he said. "I'll wait for you outside."

"Your boyfriend is calling," Sam teased.

Dean puffed up, and beamed at his brother. "I'll talk to you later Sam,” said Dean, and he immediately slipped out the door after his partner.

\---

The two men bounded up the Impala’s ramp, and Castiel stopped, wringing his hands. "Dean, we need to talk."

Dean whirled, and eyed Castiel with uncertainty. "Cas?"

"I just want to thank you for being kind to me the past few weeks. I know I wasn't easy to handle, but you didn't kick me out even when I wasn't," Castiel paused, looking away. He did not know what to say, or how to finish his sentence.

"Cas, come inside," said Dean gently, and led Castiel to the lounge. "Look man, you're… I love you. And that means no matter how much of a pain in the ass you are, we're going to go through things together."

Castiel smiled at Dean, and took his hand. He'd been doing that more and more, becoming bolder especially after he had acknowledged their relationship to their friends and family. 

He regretted that it took him this long to make such a simple declaration, but now that he had done it, it was worth  _ everything _ .

"Now that the missions are done, I have nowhere to live. I know I asked your family, and I know I have been bunking with you lately, but I don't actually know where I'm meant to go from here," Castiel said. "I suppose I can always bunk with Gabriel at Kattada, but-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Dean interrupted. "You're staying on Larka, with me," he declared, then looked worriedly at Castiel. "If that's what you want, that is." 

"I happily would," Castiel responded quickly. 

"And I was thinking, I have responsibilities here, as the representative, but there is still work to be done," Dean said. He glanced out of the viewport in the lounge. "I don't want those who need me get left behind, so I'll have to periodically head back out to space. I think everything would go smoother and faster if I work with a partner, so I can finish missions in time."

"Are you asking me to work with you, Dean Winchester?" Castiel said teasingly.

Dean grinned. "Why, if I ask you to marry me, would you?"

Castiel blinked. "Maybe… maybe in a few years?'

Dean grinned. "I'll hold you to that." There was a comfortable pause in the conversation, where Castiel and Dean just sat in each other's presence. Dean then spoke firmly, "Cas, if we do this, you can’t do spice anymore. Or death sticks." He licked his lips. "If you need more help you need to tell me. We can’t go through all of that again."

Castiel squeezed Dean's hand, looking at his lap. "I was in a dark place, and I was alone." He turned to Dean. "I'm not alone anymore. I know that. If I need help, I will say something. But you have to do the same. Tell me what you need and want, like this. I appreciate this, Dean, I don't want to be 'put first'. We're equals in this relationship."

Dean nodded, and leaned in to give Castiel a kiss. Before his lips could even touch Castiel's, the comms started ringing throughout the ship.

"Every single time!" Dean yelled, and stalked off to the cockpit. 

Castiel laughed. There was plenty of time for them both, of that he was certain. 

The End


	20. Timestamp (Smut incoming!)

** _Smut incoming!_ **

(This takes place after Alastair-Abaddon got wrapped up. We all saw the morning after, but here was the night before!) 

  
  


Adrenaline still ran through his veins, even after Dean had returned from an agonizing trip to the medcenter. Doctors fussed over him, and he was dunked into a bacta tank for a few hours to make sure everything would be on the mend. The rush from the fight and a job well done felt heady, and once Dean and Castiel got back onto the  _ Impala _ , he crowded the Jedi into the wall. 

"Dean?" Castiel said, but Dean could see his pupils dilate in the light. He tentatively pressed against Castiel's lips, which turned into an enthusiastic exchange that left Dean panting and holding on to Castiel's tunic for dear life.

Dean drew away for air, and whispered as he gave his partner a small peck on the cheek. “Is that a lightsaber in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"   
  
"Why would I have a lightsaber in my pocket? You know it's up my sleeve." Castiel said, hands clutching Dean's shoulders. He tipped his head to the side. “And that is incredibly irresponsible. The switch may get caught in clothing and you do not want to slice up any body part accidentally, just like how blasters shouldn't-” 

Dean rolled his eyes, and yanked Castiel to him, giving him a deep kiss, biting Castiel's lower lip as they parted. Castiel blinked, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, blue eyes swallowed in dark arousal. Dean laughed. “That shut you up, didn't it?”

“You aren't playing fair.” Castiel whispered with a grin. 

“You love me anyway,” Dean offered cheekily. 

Castiel's face lit up. “I do. I love you very much.” 

“I love you too, you know that right?” 

“I know.” Castiel responded, and Dean brushed against his lips once more. Castiel licked into Dean's mouth, and for a while they stood against the door, making out like teenagers. 

“You know, we really should break-in my memory foam,” Dean offered.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “You would really have me believe that in the years we were apart from each other you didn't sleep with any being at all?”

Dean sputtered, but Castiel grinned at him. “Babe, I'm only human!” Dean ran the back of his fingers on the side of Castiel's face. “Besides, I never brought any of them on the Impala. This place is just for us.” 

Castiel gave Dean a chaste kiss. “I believe you.” 

“I’ll race you for it.” Dean whispered, grinning.   
  


Castiel blinked. “What?”

“Last one in puts their mouth to good use!” Dean yelled, shoving Castiel to the side and scrambling out of the room. Castiel yelped in the background, and Dean felt a sharp tug on his jacket that sent him tumbling. 

He could have caught himself, but Dean let himself hit the floor with a thud. “Are you okay Dean?” Castiel appeared behind him, crouching down. “Are you hurt?”

“You’re cheating! No Force!” said Dean, hooking an arm around Castiel’s neck and pulling him down for a long, sensuous kiss, and eventually using him as leverage to flip Castiel onto the floor. He pushed the Jedi down, rolled around with the other man a little, and ended up sitting on Castiel’s stomach.

“You are such a child, Dean Winchester,” Castiel panted, looking up at Dean. 

“I know,” Dean said, and stood up to continue his run towards the captain’s quarters.

Castiel was not having any of that, and promptly caught Dean’s foot with a hand. Dean went flying to the floor again, but this time he caught himself. He caught Castiel’s tunic, and Castiel went down again as well. “At this rate, no one’s going to win,” Dean said.

“I’ll do you anyway,” Castiel offered, and Dean crawled forward to his partner. He let Castiel feel his erection as he slid up Castiel’s body, and Castiel inhaled shakily.

“I prefer it when you make noise, you know.” Dean punctuated his words with a rock of his hips and another peck on Castiel’s cheek. 

Castiel moaned loudly at Dean’s ministrations, and Dean paused to collect himself. “I think I might actually finish just from this.” He said, panting.

“I was hoping I actually get to see  _ all _ of you,” Castiel said, pouting. Dean felt something caress and hold his length, then it wrapped snugly at his base. “That should take care of it.”   
  


Dean blinked at his partner. “Did you just use the Force as an ejaculation inhibitor?”

Castiel stared back at Dean innocently. “It’s fairly simple, requires only a tiny amount of concentration. I’m sure that we could fashion one from some other item, but I figured this would be the safest op-”

Dean rocked into Castiel even more aggressively, and started to pull apart the tunic that Castiel had on. Castiel cut himself off with a moan, and helped Dean remove the tunic. In no time he was half naked on the ship’s floor, with Dean still staring deep into his eyes. “The floor is cold, can we go to your room now?”

Dean chuckled and got up, pulling the other man to his feet. Dean let Castiel guide him into the quarters, and in one fluid motion, Castiel threw out a hand to switch the door closed, and unfastened Dean’s trousers with the other. 

Dean smirked at Castiel’s eagerness, and the other man rolled his eyes at Dean, while he dropped to his knees and swallowed Dean down in one go.

Dean would forever deny that he yelped in surprise, followed by a loud moan that would have sent anyone hiding in the compartments scrambling. 

“Force, Cas,” Dean groaned. “You could slow down a little.”

“It’s not like you would finish,” Castiel said, pulling back with a pop, and accentuated this with a slight tightening of the ring which hitched Dean’s breath. “Tell me you don’t like this, and I’ll stop.” His tongue licked just under the head and past his slit, and Dean’s knees almost buckled when he felt something brush against his rim. 

Dean hissed, and Castiel pulled off, and led Dean to the bed. Dean took his jacket,shirt, and pants off, and lay down. Castiel followed, leaning on top of the other man. “I want to be inside you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel said. “I want to open you up and let you take my member to the root.”

“Drawer,” Dean moaned in response. Castiel opened it up with a wave of a hand, and a bottle of lubricant floated towards them.

“I don’t really need this to open you up if I use the Force now, do I?” Castiel asked with a sly smile.

“I want you, Cas,  _ actual _ you, inside me,” Dean insisted. “Use your fingers, please.”   
  


Castiel nodded, and gave Dean a kiss on the lips. He trailed down with another kiss on the jaw, a lick down his neck and to his chest, a kiss on the nipple, and nips down his stomach. He gave Dean’s tip a small kiss and a lick, and then blew at Dean’s hole. Dean shivered deliciously. 

Dean rolled over. Castiel made sure that his fingers were well coated in lubricant before he traced his partner’s hole with one. Dean made an approving noise, and accepted Castiel’s finger easily. 

Castiel opened him up slowly, occasionally pressing against a spot inside Dean that made him see starlines in hyperspace. Castiel didn't let up on the Force either, and Dean felt small touches and licks against his the tip of his member that made him whimper. 

“I thought the Jedi were against torture.”

“I’m not a Jedi any longer,” Castiel whispered. He looked down at his handiwork, and remarked, “I think you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready for the past 15 minutes.”

“Patience.”

"Let's switch places and I'll test how far that Jedi patience can actually go."

Castiel smirked, and slapped Dean's ass. Dean yelped. "Maybe next time, Captain Winchester."

Dean could feel the weight shift on the bed, and there was a rustle of clothing being removed. He anticipated what would happen next with his breath held. 

He gasped when Castiel pushed in to the hilt. Castiel grunted, and did not move, except to lovingly stroke Dean along his side. He leaned down and gave the prone man's shoulder a kiss. "You are so lovely for me, so perfect, Dean Winchester."

Dean could only grunt in response, as Castiel pulled back and thrust in with continuous, smooth movements. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and low moans were loud in the quarters, and Dean had never been happier that no one was in the ship, because he was dead certain that their noise could be heard all the way to the engineering bay. 

"Stop. Thinking. Dean," Castiel said, each word punctuated with a rock of his hips. Castiel paused, shifted positions, and pushed in again. 

Dean was pretty sure he howled when Castiel hit his prostate. 

"Force, Castiel, that's, ff-"

Castiel couldn't even manage words. His grunts and moans were increasingly animalistic, and Dean relished being able to push a tightly held Castiel into incoherence. 

There was a sudden loss of sensation around Dean's length, but it was quickly replaced by Castiel's hand. Castiel groans turned unbelievably louder, and Dean's eyes widened when Castiel's movements started to stutter. 

"Cas, are you -"

"Dean, have I ever told you about the  _ many uses _ of the Force?" Castiel said in between panting. "Like reaching places - Dean, ah - you cannot normally reach - hngh - if both of your hands are hanging -  _ Force _ \- onto your partner for dear life?"

"Oh, Force!" Dean screamed, in time with Castiel's particularly strong thrust, with the realization that Castiel was using the Force as a masturbatory object in his own kriffing  _ ass _ . 

Castiel was actively sodomizing himself as he was having intercourse with Dean. 

The knowledge, combined with Castiel's steady movements on his member and his stuttering thrusts into Dean's rear, drove Dean to orgasm with a scream of Castiel's name. Castiel grunted, and after a few rocking into Dean a few more times finished with a scream that was definitely heard outside of the  _ Impala _ .

Castiel slumped over Dean, and both panted for a moment or so. A towel flew into Castiel’s hand, and he wiped the both of them down before rolling over on one side of the bed.

Dean spoke, “That was-”

“-worth the wait,” Castiel continued.

“Yes, but also, I was going to say 'sorely needed and much deserved’,” Dean said, and Castiel playfully tried to shove him off the bed. Dean hung onto Castiel for dear life, and they tussled for a few minutes.

Dean always inevitably ended up as little spoon. 

“I love you, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it's done! My first SPN fanfic! I have not decided yet if I'm going to be writing the prequel, aka 'What mission did Castiel and Gabriel do on Larka?', but I already honestly have notes and a vague outline of what happened ahaha. We shall see! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
